True Love is Like a Golden Snitch
by klickmaster92
Summary: Pure-Blood, Quidditch Obsessive Oliver Wood has no reason to be interested in a girl like me. Unless some miracle occurs and I get onto the Quidditch team, he won't have anything to do with me. I'm just Fred and George's quiet little friend. In the past, I learned that true love is impossible to find, but I think I've finally found an exception. T because I'm paranoid
1. The War of The Potatoes

**Chandler POV**

I've been dreading third year winter break since I got my letter from Hogwarts. My mother only agreed to send me if I spent my third year winter vacation in London with my idiotic half-brother, Marcus. He isn't okay with it, either. If it were up to him, I would be dead by now. Apparently, Gryffindor's are an "insult to the Flint family," as Marcus likes to say. When we get back to our dad's apartment, he'll probably have some scheme to get me to use magic and get expelled, or maybe just driving me insane will work for him.

"Ms. Flint," Professor McGonagall says. I look up to the front of the room, and she says, "Could you please demonstrate the correct way to turn a mouse into a cat?" I nod, and then I wave my wand, and begin petting the cat in front of me, who starts to purr, "Good," McGonagall says, pleased. "Ten points for Gryffindor." The rest of the class attempts the spell after McGonagall has instructed them.

Only a few of them have succeeded by the time the bell rings though, and the Ravenclaws walk toward their common room while we Gryffindors walk towards ours, in the opposite direction. Someone in the mob mumbles the password (I never remember those bloody things), and we all climb through the portrait hole.

The common room is filled with first years, exhausted from their first day of classes. The captain of the house Quidditch team, Oliver Wood, sits at a table surrounded by the other people on the team. He's helping the third and fourth years with their homework, while helping the seventh years map out a new practice schedule. I sit on one of the couches and start on my Potions homework.

A few minutes later, I hear Fred Weasley's voice from the Quidditch table, "Hey, Chandler!" I look up and see him waving me over. I put my parchment, quill, and ink bottle away, and walk over to the table.

"What?" I ask Fred. A few of the seventh years I haven't met look up after hearing my obvious American accent, but then look back towards their little map.

"Do you have your History of Magic homework?"

I nod, "Why?"

"What was the year that the wizards started pairing up with Muggles, do you remember?"

"Yeah, 372 BC."

Fred and George Weasley quickly write this down.

"And bloody know-it-all Wood had no idea," George mumbles under his breath, slightly too loud.

"What?" Oliver turns to face the red-headed boy sitting next to him.

Fred speaks up, "George here was just explaining how a third year knew something you didn't, that's all."

This gets Oliver's attention. "Who is this third year, if I may ask?" He says, slightly agitated.

George nods toward me, "Chandler,"

Oliver nods, probably annoyed that a little third year _girl_ knew something that he didn't. Honestly, I couldn't care less about the look he gives me before deciding that I'm not worth arguing with, and returns to the parchment in front of him.

I sit in between the Weasley twins so that they can check their answers on their History of Magic and Potions homework, every know and then muttering about how they got something wrong. About half and hour later, Professor McGonagall enters the common room and tells us all to go to dinner before Apparating there herself. The first years all whisper to themselves about what dinner might be, and Fred and George wrinkle their noses and tell them that after the beginning banquet, the meals are terrible, and that breakfast and lunch today were obviously a glitch in the magic used to make our food. The smells wafting through the halls say otherwise. I can clearly smell grilled chicken, turkey, mashed potatoes, noodles, and chocolate chip cookies.

Gryffindor is the second house to enter the Great Hall, Hufflepuff beating us by seconds. We all sit down and the first years start up their talking and mumbling about how amazing everything is here. Ravenclaw and Slytherin enter and take their seats before Dumbledore shuts us all up.

"How did you enjoy your first day of classes here at Hogwarts?" He asks us, mainly the first years. His answer is a loud mob of cheering. After a moment of this, silence is restored as plates and utensils appear, and we all begin eating.

Fred and George are on one side of me, having a war of mashed potatoes, waiting until their older brother Percy notices. On the other side, two boys sit, one of them is clearly a Weasley, and the other looks like Harry Potter, but I can't be sure. Across the table from me, Oliver Wood, Percy Weasley, and a few seventh years on the Quidditch team are sitting, chatting away about Chasers and Bludgers, and of course, the ever constant Golden Snitch. Oliver seems slightly stressed about his lack of a Seeker.

Percy suddenly gets hit in the neck with a wad of mashed potato and turns to his brothers, muttering something I can't hear. Oliver looks in their general direction and sees me. I sink a bit into my chair, causing a slow, small grin to form on Oliver's lips. He holds my gaze for a few moments before I flit my eyes away.

The Weasley boy and Harry Potter are chatting away nervously about something, and the Weasley (Ron, I'm guessing) jumps a little in his over-sized robes.

"You're Chandler, right? I'm Ron. Fred and George have told me about you." Ron says.

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry says. I nod, indicating that I know who he is. I'm about to speak when I get hit in the shoulder with potatoes. I turn around to see the guilty faces of Fred and George, who have lowered their war spoons.

"He did it," George says, pointing at Percy, while Fred stifles a laugh.

"I did no such thing, and Chandler doesn't deserve lies," Percy says in his prefect manner.

"Chandler doesn't deserve lies," Fred mocks his older brother in a high pitched voice, which makes George and I erupt into laughter.

* * *

The next day, Herbology is canceled because the Mandrakes are acting up, so the common room is filled with bored third years. Most of them are betting on how many Filibuster fireworks Fred and George can stuff into a Muggle brick before it explodes. They aren't using money of course, they bet using Bertie Bott's every flavor beans.

Somehow, my best friend, Arianna Gryffindor (very distant granddaughter), convinced me to start on a three foot long paper a week before it's due.

"When was Helga Hufflepuff born again?" She asks me, pulling her quill from her parchment. I'm about to respond when she mutters the correct answer to herself and scribbles it down.

A few inches afterwards, the bell rings. The fifth years all climb through the portrait hole before we've even put our things away. When I have my parchment, quill, and ink bottle safely stuffed away, I stand and start walking toward the portrait hole next to Arianna. Oliver Wood winks at me as we pass him and the other fifth year Quidditch players. I unsuccessfully try to hide the redness rushing to my cheeks, which causes a smirk to come from him, and I climb through the hole in the wall before I can embarrass myself any more in front of him.

In History of Magic, most of the class is dozing off, Arianna is furiously scribbling down years and names, and I keep finding myself thinking about Oliver's eyes, or Oliver's hair, or that fresh cut grass smell he brings through the scentless school. Every now and then Arianna will tap my shoulder or wave her quill in front of my eyes to bring me back to boring Binns' lecture, but I always slip back into my daze.

True, I've liked Oliver since first year, but I've always told myself that was only because of his rivalry with my half brother. And I _hate_ my half brother. I seriously wonder how Marcus became captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, but I probably don't want to know. I never thought that my small admiration for him would turn into a crush. I guess I should have seen it coming, but I'm just stupid enough to ignore that.

The bell rings, and we make our way to Potions, then Transfigurations, then back to the common room. The Quidditch team assembles at the table, and I sit down next to Arianna and work on homework. Eventually, I can't ignore Fred's beckoning anymore, though I don't see why he expects _my_ answers to be right. Arianna's much smarter.

I sit in between Fred and George again, and they check their Potions homework, because they don't trust their own brains against Snape. Every now and then, I risk a glance at Oliver, who is revising the seventh year's practice schedule. I don't think he even notices that I'm there until McGonagall comes in to tell us all to get to dinner. He sees me collecting my Transfigurations homework and offers a smile before turning to talk to the seventh years again.

Fred notices and looks up at me, "When did you start fancying Wood?" He elbows me in the ribs like the immature kid he is.

"I didn't," I tell him, trying to hide the redness flooding my cheeks.

"Yeah, let's go with that." He smiles, and changes the subject, "Hey, George, what shall we fight with at dinner today?"

"How about nothing?" Percy's voice says, just loudly enough for the three of us to hear.

"Fine," George mutters.

"Alright," Fred grumbles.

"Thank you," Percy tells them, before finishing the conversation with, "I'm sure Chandler would appreciate it if you stopped soiling her robes with potatoes." Then he climbs through the portrait hole, with us following closely behind.


	2. Just Like Clockwork

**Chandler POV**

Every day, just like clockwork, I find my thoughts drifting more and more towards Oliver Wood. And every day, just like clockwork, I sit near Oliver Wood in the common room. And every day, just like clockwork, he gives me a sideways glance and makes me blush. And every day, just like clockwork, that flush of red makes him smirk.

Fred and George have become obsessed with the idea that I'm in love with Oliver, and like any normal American girl, I deny it. Arianna has caught on, but thankfully, she's kept her mouth shut.

One night, when Oliver has disappeared into his dormitory (he probably had a headache), Fred leans over and taunts, "Where's Oliver tonight?"

"Shut up, George," I mutter, knowing that my 'mistake' will annoy him.

"I'm Fred,"

"And I'm not in love, _George._" I tell him, stopping my History of Magic scribble.

George looks up at the sound of his name, "What did I miss?"

"Nothing much," Fred informs his twin, "Chandler's just denying her love for Wood again."

George scoffs, "You should stop acting, Chandler, you're terrible at it."

I sigh in exasperation, "Fine, whatever,"

"Was that a confession, George?" Fred asks.

"I think so," George agrees. I try to hide the small smile that my raucous friends have caused and return to my homework. I can tell that both of the twins are watching me, and I can't work in conditions like this. Leaving would be too obvious, and they are my friends, they have a right to know.

"Why does it matter if I like Oliver or not?" I ask, looking back up from my parchment.

"It doesn't," George explains, "it's just fun to tease you about him."

"Well, can you stop?"

"You forgot the magic word," Fred teases.

"Please," I mutter.

"That's all you had to say, Chandler."

* * *

I don't know what I'm doing in McGonagall's office, or what I could have done to get in this much trouble. McGonagall has left me here, trusting me not to touch anything.

She returns with Oliver behind her, and I think that I know what's coming before she says it.

"Oliver, you've been needing another Chaser, right?" McGonagall asks after sitting down in her chair. Oliver nods, looking from McGonagall to me, and back to McGonagall. "Well," McGonagall continues, "Chandler has too much time on her hands, and by that I mean she's always waking up late, so I was thinking that your training schedule would be good for her Muggle-like sleeping habits."

"But she's a Flint!" Oliver protests. I can see where he's coming from, I mean, my half-brother is his archenemy.

"She's also in _Gryffindor_." McGonagall reminds him. "If she weren't Gryffindor material, she'd be in another house." Oliver searches for another reason to not have me on the team, although I think that he only doesn't want me spying for Slytherin. Marcus would do something like that, and he'd probably bribe me to. After an awkward silence, Oliver gives in and accepts me onto the Quidditch team.

"Do you know how do fly?" He asks me.

"Sort of," I tell him.

"Okay, do you know how to play?"

"Sort of,"

He groans, but before he can complain, McGonagall tells us, "You are both excused from all classes and all homework assigned today. Mr. Wood, I expect you to teach Ms. Flint how to play Quidditch. Ms. Flint, I expect you to learn how to play Quidditch." Oliver and I sigh at the same time, but for the opposite reasons. McGonagall dismisses us to the Quidditch pitch.

"Okay, what's this?" Oliver asks, pointing to a large ball that could take my head off if it wanted to. It's struggling to break free of it's restraints, but it's stuck there.

"That's the Bludger,"

"And what does it do?"

"It knocks people off their brooms and gets them killed."

"O...kay," he points to the next ball in the case. "What's this?"

"That's the Quaffle."

"And what does it do?"

"It goes around and gets points for the teams that get it through the rings."

"Close enough." Oliver points to a tiny golden ball with wings. "What's this?"

"The Golden Snitch. You catch it and you get a hundred and fifty points for your team and the game's over."

"Correct," Oliver tosses a broomstick in my direction. "How much can you do on this?" I mount and soar a bit into the air, trying hard not to look down as I gain altitude. Oliver flies up next to me. "Try to do this," he does a little flip on his broom. I grip the broomstick tighter and shake my head.

"Not gonna happen,"

"Just try it, Chandler,"

My forgotten crush resurfaces when he says my name, and I blush again. I make an attempt to flip, and somehow manage it.

"That was awkward," Oliver criticizes, "Try it again."

I groan and continue attempting the roll around the broom until I get it right. Oliver then proceeds to throw the Quaffle at me. I barely catch it one handed.

"Do you rely entirely on the element of surprise, Oliver?"

"No, throw it back." Oliver commands me. I toss it, and I find the Quaffle surprisingly light. "You're strong." Oliver observes. "Good."

By the end of the day, I've successfully completed a barrel roll, a jolt upward, a downward swerve, an upward swerve, and a few quirky little things Oliver came up with to test me.

After the sun sets, Oliver helps me off of the grassy ground of the pitch after falling (for the fiftieth time, at least) off my broomstick. McGonagall has to come out to alert us for dinner, because Oliver thinks Quidditch is more important than paying attention to the time.

* * *

At dinner, I somehow get stuck between Fred and George again.

"Where did you two disappear to?" Fred taunts Oliver and I.

"Oliver was teaching me how to play Quidditch." I explain, hoping they'll shut up about it.

Too much to hope for.

"Chandler has a very cute American accent," George continues from what Fred said. "Don't you think so Oliver?"

I sink slowly into my seat.

"Um, yeah...?" Oliver responds awkwardly.

"Yeah," Fred keeps going, "and her eyes are nice, aren't they, Oliver?"

I resist the urge to run out if the hall right then, because that would just be too obvious.

"Is there a reason you're bringing this up right now?" Oliver asks the devilish twins. Just then, Fred and George remember that they said they would stop teasing me about Oliver and shut up. Of course, by that time, it's to late for shutting up, because Oliver suspects something, and he has a brain, so it won't take him very long to figure it out. Since the boys got his suspicions up, he wants answers. Why does anyone care if I think Chandler's eyes are pretty?" Oliver asks. Him saying my name sends a chill up my spine.

An awkward silence settles over the four of us. After a pause that seems like it takes a million years, George finds the perfectly annoying thing to say.

"Just wondering what you thought of the new Quidditch team member."

Oliver probably has a million different theories going through his head right now, but decides that it's in everyone's best interest if he doesn't ask questions about it around the Fred and George.

Sometimes I wonder why my best friends are either overachievers or extreme pranksters that never do good. Of course, I'm right in the middle of all that, so sometimes I care about grades, most of the time I care about Fred and George's crazy antics. I just hope they won't blow my head off with a Filibuster firework any time soon.

Over the next few weeks, just like clockwork, I start going to Quidditch practices. And just like clockwork, Oliver has little private sessions with me where he fails to teach me some impossible maneuver. And just like clockwork, Oliver makes me laugh more than the Weasleys or Arianna ever will. And I wish this stupid clock would slow down, because pretty soon, I'll be spending my weeks with Marcus, and I don't know if I'll be able to take that.


	3. The Sensation of Falling

**Chandler POV**

Day by day the air is growing colder, which means that we're getting closer and closer to our game against Slytherin. Oliver has gotten so focused on winning that he's stopped worrying about me spying for Slytherin and started reminding me about everything that I have to do correctly if we want to win. He's been pulled out of class twice this term for Quidditch reasons. Harry Potter is our Seeker, and we've become friends over the fact that neither of us knows what we're doing.

The day before our game with Slytherin, the entire team is outside in a circle, talking about strategy.

"Okay," Oliver runs through something for the _thirtieth _ time, "Harry, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to fly as high as I can and look for something shiny." Harry responds.

"Right," Oliver looks to me, "and what about you? What are you going to do?"

"Throw the Quaffle into one of those hoops." I tell him.

He nods, before moving on to Fred and George, "What are you two going to do tomorrow?"

"Uh," Fred starts.

George finishes his brother's sentence, "We're going to make sure nobody gets killed by a Bludger."

"That would be nice, yeah," Oliver's about to move on to the rest of the team when he suddenly gets extremely tense. I turn around and see the Slytherin team looking over us like a meal. Marcus' eyes fall on me and he smirks an ugly smirk. Genetically, there should be no way that we're related.

"Chandler, what are _you_ doing with the Gryffindor Quidditch team?" He asks, he's fighting a laugh.

"I play Quidditch. What's a talent-less idiot like you doing with the Slytherin Quidditch team? I mean, the rest of your little friends are stupid, but they can play. Sort of."

Marcus' smug look has disappeared, and I can hear Harry laughing quietly next to me. My half-brother doesn't have anything to say to that, which I'm happy about. I'm usually pretty shy, but I do have to aggravate my brother sometimes. That's what little sisters are for, right?

Eventually, Marcus gets over his shock and finds his voice, "You play Quidditch? What are you, water girl?" His attempt at a snide remark just makes him sound stupider than he is.

"She's a better Chaser than you, Flint," Oliver chimes in. He has the sense to get us all out of here before it gets ugly. Personally, I'm glad for that, because I built up a lot of nerve for the one comment about Marcus' brain and I don't have any left. No more Miss Sassy Pants for me. Oliver gets up and we all follow. Marcus grabs my wrist while I'm walking with the team.

"Be careful, okay?" He says. I turn, slightly in shock.

"When did you start caring about me?" I ask him.

"I care about you because technically you're related to me. Also, Dad says I have to take care of you this year."

"Okay, what do I need to be careful about?"

"Flying." Marcus starts.

"Wow, you're an idiot." That doesn't take much, I've been calling him stupid since I was born.

"Look, Chandler, just try and stay _in _the air, okay?"

"Yeah, okay, whatever." I run after my team and catch up right next to Harry.

"What was that about?" Harry asks me.

"Brother-Sister rivalry." I say, hoping he doesn't ask too much more.

"Wait, he's your brother?"

"Yeah,"

"Well, for the record, you got the better end of genetics."

"Thanks, Harry. Did I miss anything important?"

"Just a pep talk. I was wondering why Oliver was letting you stay back there."

"Are we going back to the common room?"

"I think so,"

* * *

Arianna seems okay with me working on Quidditch strategy instead of doing homework in the common room. Oliver goes through each of the team members and their jobs again before letting us start on homework. We actually don't have that much today. Snape would have overloaded us, but we have Potions with Slytherin, so he would be holding his team back by giving us homework.

Fred, George, and I all get stuck on the same question, and we're all too lazy to get Arianna over here, so George consults Oliver about the mixture of Mandrakes and phoenix feathers.

"Uh...you mix those two, you'll have a bomb big enough to blow up three Hogwarts' at once." He says. Fred and George look at each other with a mischievous look. "Don't do it. Ever."

Fred sinks back into his seat, "Okay, fine," he mutters.

"Don't try any variations of this either. Do you hear me?"

"We got it, Wood." George says. Oliver looks at me, waiting for me to agree to never blow up Hogwarts.

"Don't look at me, Oliver, they're the crazy ones." I remind him. He doesn't take his eyes off me, "Okay, whatever, I'm not gonna blow anything up." Oliver nods and returns to his own homework.

I'm surprised that he doesn't have more to say about Quidditch. While I'm glad for the break in commands, Oliver is kind of adorable when he tells us what to do.

Nope. Now is _not_ the time to be thinking about how adorable Gryffindor's Quidditch captain is.

Yeah, that didn't work.

Fred taps on my shoulder, and I look up at him. "Yeah?" I ask.

"You okay?" He asks me, concern in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"You've been staring at nothing for the past ten minutes."

"Oh," I can feel heat rushing to my cheeks.

"What's going on?" Fred asks me. He notices that I look around and stay quiet. "He's gone. Got tired, went to sleep. Kind of how humans work."

"Yeah," I shake my head, trying to rid myself of thoughts about Oliver's slightly addicting accent.

"So...were you gonna tell me what's so interesting about a brick wall?"

"I was just...thinking."

"About what? Sorry, who?"

"Do I have to answer that question?"

"No, but is it really that bad?"

I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, "I don't know." I sigh, aggravated at my idiocy and confusion.

"Oh, Wood wanted me to tell you something."

I perk up, "What?"

"He wanted you to get some sleep tonight, you know, for the game tomorrow." I start to stand, but Fred pulls me back into my seat, "Chandler, he's worried about you. We all are. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. And you have nothing to worry about."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Fred, I'm fine."

"Okay, you should get to bed."

"Hang on, why is Oliver worried about me?"

"I don't know, he didn't tell me anything about that. I can just tell."

"Okay, goodnight."

"Night,"

I leave the common room and up to my dorm. I can't help wondering what Oliver could be worried about, but at some point in the night, I find sleep.

* * *

Oliver has Katie Bell waking me up way earlier than necessary for Quidditch. When I get to the common room, Oliver, Fred, and George are all sitting on one of the couches. I sit down in between Fred and Oliver, waiting for Katie to get the rest of the girls and for Harry to get the rest of the boys.

"So how did you sleep, Chandler?" Fred asks in an attempt to break the awkward silence.

"Not very well," I tell him.

"Don't worry," Oliver says, putting a hand on my shoulder, "Slytherin's gonna rue the day they messed with Gryffindor."

I look at George, "Does he say that before every Slytherin match?"

"Yeah," George says, "but sometimes he actually means it."

Oliver laughs, "I always mean it, you guys just don't always take it seriously."

"Fair enough," Fred says, smiling.

"Really, don't freak out about it," Oliver reassures me. Oh, God his accent is distracting. Flying, a hundred feet in the air, with my demon of a half-brother is reason to freak out about something. I mean, it's not like I can just poof myself into calmness, and having Oliver this close to me doesn't help at all.

"Didn't you get hit in the head two minutes into your first game?" I ask him, reminding him why I should be nervous.

"Yeah, but we didn't have Fred and George as beaters back then."

"Well, what if I just fall off?"

"You won't fall off. You know how to fly."

"I'm not exactly graceful under pressure."

"You'll be fine, trust me." Oliver says. Him telling me to trust him sends my brain flying around into senselessness. After a few seconds of silence, Oliver asks, "Are you okay?" I nod, still not fully capable of forming words. Katie chooses that moment to prance in with the rest of the girls behind her. A moment later, Harry comes down the steps with the rest of the boys. "Are you all ready?" Oliver confirms (with varying levels of enthusiasm) that we're all ready to play our rivals. He leads us all to breakfast, where we sit in our little Quidditch cluster before the rest of the school files out to the pitch and then our team goes out.

As we fly out, the noise in the stands increases incredibly. Marcus watches me carefully, like the protective brother he's not. As soon as the Quaffle is thrown into the air, he starts playing like a Slytherin. Gryffindor gets the Quaffle first, and somehow I end up with it. Katie slows down next to me and I immediately toss the Quaffle to her. She flies it around for a bit before scoring. Fred high fives me before going to smack a Bludger away from Oliver. George is up higher in the air with Harry, keeping Bludgers away from the boy with the lightning scar.

The game continues for about twenty minutes before Harry starts diving around for the Snitch. I fly up a bit and search for the shiny object that Harry sees. Eventually, my eyes fall on a flash of gold. Fred and George are whacking a Bludger in between their two bats before hitting it towards a Slytherin that happens to be close to me. He flies upward and the Bludger comes at me. I try to fly down, and, in my current shaky handed state, fail. The Bludger hits the front of my broom and sends me flying toward the ground. I cuss under my breath as the ground gets closer to me.

The feeling of falling isn't actually that bad. The air whips my hair around. If I didn't think that I were about to die, I might actually like the feeling of my heart trying to keep up with my body. But you know, I think I'm going to die in 70 feet. 60 feet. 50 feet. 40 feet. I'm not screaming, which surprises me. 30 feet. 20 feet. 10 feet.

Ow.

A screaming pain starts to whiz through my left side, both of my ankles, and my wrist. The referee (I can't remember who right now) blows the whistle loud enough for somebody inside of the castle to hear. Almost immediately, Oliver and Marcus are both kneeling next to me. They're both muttering things that would send a language freak up the wall.

"Chandler," Oliver says, I don't even have the energy to blush, "can you hear me?"

"Yeah," I mumble.

Fred and George are near now, too, I can hear them blaming themselves for this and apologizing to Oliver, me, and surprisingly, Marcus. Everything is starting to fall out of focus. And I know that soon I'm going to black out.

"Does anything hurt?" Marcus asks.

"Just everything," I mutter. He seems pleased with the fact that I can still be sarcastic. Arianna's near now, too. She's telling the twins that this isn't anyone's fault but the Bludger's.

"What specifically?" Oliver's voice comes back. I can't really see anything anymore.

"I don't know." The pain is starting to get worse, but it's dulling at the same time. Oliver and Marcus take turns cursing about their current predicament.

Madam Pomfrey's voice comes through, "Out of the way, out of the way!" I can tell Marcus has disappeared (can't say I'm sorry to know that), and Oliver has gone with him (that I'm a bit sad about). A few seconds after Pomfrey Apparates us into the infirmary, I start to lose feeling everywhere.

Then there is nothing.


	4. Almost

**Chandler POV**

The first person I see is Oliver. He looks like he hasn't slept in about a week. Fred, George, and Arianna don't look much better. The rest of my Quidditch team are surrounding my bed, also looking worried, but they look like they've at least gotten some sleep.

"Oliver..." I barely whisper.

"Hey, Chandler," He says, sighing with relief at me waking up.

I clear my throat, "How long was I out?"

Fred starts in on the conversation, "A week and a half,"

Arianna takes the time to inform me of everything I missed. Two exams, seven small assignments, and a Quidditch match.

"I missed Quidditch!" I start.

"Calm down, it was just one match. We won." George says. Oliver's clearly upset that I missed Quidditch, and from the way he looks, it was a miracle they won.

"We've been worried sick about you." Fred tells me, nodding at Oliver, who seems to have had the worst of the worry.

Madam Pomfrey comes in and tells the crowd that I'm only allowed one visitor. Immediately, everyone but Oliver leaves.

"Are you feeling okay?" He asks me, a bit more open now that everyone else is gone.

"Yeah, but what happened exactly?"

"You got hit with a Bludger and fell a hundred feet. You broke three ribs, both your ankles and your right wrist." Oliver tells me.

"Oh."

"And you're sure you feel okay?"

"Yeah, my head hurts a bit, but I'm fine. Why?"

"Because I know you're lying." He says. And he's right. Every single part of me is screaming in pain, and I'm just ignoring it.

"How do you know?"

"Because I've been in your position before, and it sucks." Oliver pauses, as if contemplating what to say next, "You're the bravest girl I've ever met."

"Not really," I tell him.

"You are. You're the only third year I know who hasn't complained about injuries. Even _I _complained."

"Well,we're different people. Besides, you aren't afraid of people. I am."

"I am, too."

"Voldemort doesn't count, Oliver."

"Okay, so that takes out one person," he laughs.

"Neither does Snape. We're all afraid of him."

"Okay, but I'm still afraid of some people."

"Like who?"

"Myself,"

"Why?"

"Because I'm always wondering what stupid thing I'm going to do next."

"You never do stupid things, Oliver."

"Yeah, I do. I let you fall off a broom and break half the bones in your body."

"That wasn't your fault, Oliver."

"I know, but it feels like it."

I impulsively grab his hand, and his eyes immediately lock on mine.

"Don't worry about me," I say, looking straight at him.

"I can't help it, and I don't know why, and-,"

"Oliver," I interrupt him, "I get it."

"Then explain it to me. I'm confused, and I really don't like that feeling." His hand has left mine.

"I can't explain it," I tell him, though he probably won't let that go.

"Why not?"

"Because you have to understand."

"I don't."

"Well, I can't help you until you know what's going one in your head."

"Fred was right." Oliver says, obviously trying to wrap his mind around something he understands.

"About what?"

"You're accent. It's cute."

I blush again, and this time there's no hiding it.

"Yours is pretty adorable, too."

"Well," Oliver smiles arrogantly and then we both laugh. He picks up my hand again, and he looks at me.

"Wood!" Madam Pomfrey's voice comes from behind the curtain, "Chandler needs rest,"

Oliver gives me one of those half-smiles before getting up and walking away. Madam Pomfrey comes into the curtain with a thick gray liquid.

"Bottom's up?" I ask, suddenly feeling much weaker.

"Yep," she says, handing me a glass. I choke it down and half of the pain fades away. "Better?" She asks, confirming what she already knows. I nod.

"Got anything else for me?"

"Yes," She whips out the wizard version of Tylenol and hands me a pill. I put it in my mouth, and the pain in my head disappears.

"Can I go to dinner tonight?" I ask her.

"Yes, if you rest for the rest of the morning."

"Okay,"

Pomfrey dims the lights so that I can sleep, even though she should know that I'm going to spend the day thinking.

* * *

Dumbledore makes sure that everyone knows that I'm at dinner tonight, which brings cheering (even from Slytherin). Everyone outside of the Quidditch team, my brother, and Arianna assumed that I was done for.

"Head still hurt?" Oliver asks me after the noise has died down. I shake my head, which makes him smile and say, "Good," Fred and George look at him with a devilish glint in their eyes, "because now you can play Quidditch again," Oliver finishes, trying to avoid any obvious relief that I'm currently painless. Fred nods sarcastically and George has to shove food in his mouth to keep from laughing.

After dinner, Arianna tries to get me to catch up on homework. I remind her that I've recently been near-death (though it's obviously just an excuse). She points out that my near death experience doesn't effect how lazy I am.

"Madam Pomfrey told me to take it easy this week," I point out to Arianna.

"Well, I think that History of Magic homework isn't going to get you very worked up, Chandler." She says.

"I _really _shouldn't do anything that makes me think. Could give me a headache." I tap my head gently for emphasis.

"Chandler," Oliver's voice comes from right next to me, and I immediately start flushing, "Do you homework."

"Fine," I groan. Arianna looks satisfied as I pull out parchment and a quill and continue the paper I've been working on for a week. I still have three days to do it, I see no point in starting a week before something's due, but Arianna doesn't agree with me on that.

The common room epties slowly, and Arianna, Fred, George, and Oliver manage to get me to sleep by eight. They says that if I stay up too late then my brain will get messed up and I'll get a migraine. I (like any normal teen) protest this absurd sleeping time, but eventually give in and head up to my dorm.

I take one last look at the moonlight streaming into the window and suddenly remember how close I had been to Oliver this morning. Almost close enough to kiss him. Not that I would have done that or anything, but almost. Almost.

* * *

_Tell me what you thought (PLEASE)...Yeah...so just type something random into that pretty little box below (for all you smart alecks, kjhsdfhaieafhuar counts) and then feel free to get on with your night. Or day. Or whatever time it is wherever you are._


	5. Return to Mundanity

_So...there was a review with some confusion about some things...I had Madam Pomfrey having the second years plant Mandrakes when Harry was in his first year (did that make any sense?) and Oliver's in his fifth year...I thought I made that clear but oh well...and since it's my story I felt like changing a few things because I'm not JK Rowling. If you're not okay with that then don't read the story...it's a simple concept. Sorry if I sound irritated...I'm P. with my homework._

**Chandler POV**

When I wake up, my headache has returned. It's not as bad as yesterday, but in my opinion a headache is a headache. I make a mental note to stop by the infirmary before going to class. I quietly roll out of my bed and get ready for Quidditch practice.

"I'm not letting you practice today," Oliver says on the way to the pitch.

"I want to," I plead for what feels like the thirtieth time.

"No,"

"I didn't ask for your permission, Oliver."

"And I didn't ask for a new team member, but I went with it and am I complaining now?"

"Gee, thanks." I say sarcastically.

"You need to rest Chandler. Please." Oliver starts begging.

"No, I'm fine."

"No, you're not-,"

"If I don't fly today I'm going to explode."

"As Quidditch captain, I'm telling you that you can't practice today."

I switch tactics, "But if I don't practice today, I won't be prepared for the next match, and that will set our team back."

Oliver considers this for a moment, "Fine, you can practice, just be careful and stay on your broom."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it."

"Good," he says. We've reached the pitch by now, and Oliver's mounted his broom and handed me mine. I take to the air and start throwing a Quaffle with Alicia. Once we're all in the air, Oliver splits us up into two groups and we start scrimmaging. Oliver makes us practice without Bludgers for obvious (and idiotic) reasons.

Fred and George have brought a box of Filibuster fireworks that they keep throwing around. They say it's to make sure we can't be distracted, but I think it's just to show that they're bored without Bludgers to whack around. Oliver doesn't say anything, but he seems irritated, worried, and slightly shaky the whole time.

When Oliver Wood isn't entirely focused on Quidditch, I fear the world may end.

* * *

Before dinner, in the common room, most of the Quidditch team sits in their usual place, but Fred, George, and I sit with Arianna because of a specifically impossible History of Magic assignment. Arianna's always been good with impossible homework assignments.

"Are you sure it was AD and not BC?" Fred asks after getting help on the age of the current headmaster.

"Yes, I'm sure. Dumbledore's not that old."

"Whatever you say, Arianna," I mumble while writing the year down as neat as I can.

Arianna continues to work faster than any person (including witches and wizards) should be able to. I fail to work get this stupid thing done before the twins, which might have something to do with the fact that I keep zoning out or flitting my eyes to Oliver, or maybe it's just because I don't care about the history of Hogwarts.

I finish about two minutes after George and practically collapse onto the table.

"Tired?" Fred asks, leaning his head down so the he's looking me in the eyes.

"Yep." I say, we both sit up and I sigh, "I'm sick of history. Why am I supposed to care about it, anyway? The history of Hogwarts doesn't affect me much. It wasn't here, now it is. That's all I care about."

"I know how you feel, but try explaining that to Binns. His life is history, literally, so I don't think he'll understand."

I nod, "I guess so." I put my head on the table again.

"Does your head still hurt?"

"A little, but I'm fine."

"We have Quidditch practice early tomorrow, you should go get some sleep."

I sit up and groan, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. You don't have to go through it all again, I'm going." I put all of my stuff away and go to my dorm, where I find I'm a lot more tired than I thought I was, and I'm asleep before I hit my bed.

* * *

The next morning, I have to scramble around because I'm up late for practice. On the bright side, my headaches gone, but Oliver's going to kill me when I get to the pitch.

Turns out he's extremely forgiving to people who fall a hundred feet when they show up late for something.

"And you're sure you want to practice today?" Oliver asks me once I reach the pitch.

"Didn't we go over this yesterday?"

"Maybe, but I'm just not sure if you should be-,"

"I'm practicing, and if you have a problem with that, then go whine about it to Dumbledore."

"If your attitude gets any worse, I might." He jokes, clearly tired of the pointless argument. I smile at him before flying up into the air. Fred and George come up after the Chasers. Oliver releases the Bludgers (Fred and George need something to do) before he flies up and tosses the Quaffle to me. I toss it up as Alicia flies over me.

She tosses it to Angelina while I fly in front of both of them, preparing to receive the Quaffle. Fred whacks a Bludger away from Oliver and towards a tree, though it quickly returns. The Snitch hasn't been released, because it's too hard to find, and we don't have enough time for that, so Harry is in the stands, noting things that we do wrong, or exceptionally correct.

After about seven hundred different ways to score a goal, Oliver lets us all go to class. Personally, I would rather spend the day playing Quidditch instead of learning, but I can't afford to miss any more class. Spending a week in the infirmary really sets a student back at Hogwarts.

History of Magic is just as boring as it always is because this time, Professor Binns is talking about the possible future of wizards based on their past, so I can't really complain about irrelevance here.

The day goes by slowly, but finally, we're released to our common rooms until dinner.

I collapse into one of the chairs at the Quidditch team's table. Oliver gives me a sideways glance and smiles a bit. I smile back, feeling heat rush to my cheeks. Fred looks from me to Oliver, and then to George, who is doing the same thing, and they both fight laughter.

I gently slap Fred's arm.

"What?" He asks like a guilty four year old.

"You know what," I sigh. Fred shakes off his little annoying Fred moment.

"Have you got your Potions homework?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I need help,"

I sigh and mumble under my breath, "Don't you always."

I spend the rest of my time before dinner explaining my reasons for being right. Most of the things I say go in one of his ears and out the other. I'm slightly afraid he's plotting some prank instead of listening, but his grades don't affect me. If he gets expelled, Hogwarts would be extremely boring, though.

McGonagall announces dinner and Percy Weasley gladly leads us to the Great Hall. Dinner goes by, and the next thing I know, I'm in my dorm, falling asleep.

_Welcome back to your mundane life, Chandler, _I think to myself before drifting into dreams.

* * *

_So...this chapter wasn't uploaded as fast as my other chapters...Sorry about that...I had a lot of stuff going on and I've been having trouble finding time to come up with ideas. Please review and tell me what you thought, and if something isn't how it is in the book, I already know...and I only need to hear about it once._


	6. Confessions of a Quidditch Captain

**Chandler POV**

I wake up feeling oddly comfortable, even though it's unnaturally early. Oliver would disagree, though. He would say that days don't get nicer than they are at this exactly this point in time, and that the only good thing we can do is practice Quidditch. He's adorable when he's being stupid.

Katie hasn't been in charge of waking everyone up this time, but nobody's stupid enough to leave me with the responsibility of waking myself and others up. I'm on this team because I can't get up in the morning.

Today, however, I'm the first one into the common room. Oliver actually does a double take when he sees me.

"Chandler?" He asks, jokingly concerned, "You're...awake. Strange."

"What's so weird about being awake?" I retort, smiling, "You're awake."

Oliver fakes confusion, "I'm always awake." He jokes. "I don't believe in sleep."

"Only Quidditch," I finish for him.

Fred and George's inharmonious voices fill the common room, "Good morning!" Fred looks at the both of us, then at George.

"Are we interrupting something?" His eyes are growing that devilish look to them.

"No," I say, which just makes Fred and George do that little twin thing-y that they do and then plop down on a couch.

"So are you two lovebirds going to fight about Quidditch again today?" George asks. Oliver doesn't appear stunned at all by the use of the term 'lovebirds', so I assume that the twins have been harassing him about it, too.

"Possibly," Oliver says.

"Are you _still _worried about her, Wood?" George asks.

"Well, she's a Chaser, therefore she's extremely important to the team, and-," Oliver tries to explain without sounding like an idiot.

Fred cuts him off, "Oh, come on, Wood. We know there's more to it than that."

I look from Fred to George and then to Oliver before confessing, "I'm confused."

"I'm confused, too." George says.

Fred waits for about three seconds and explains, "Wood fancies Chandler, and Chandler fancies Wood. But neither of them are open about it because of Chandler's brother."

I sink into the couch, "_Half-_brother. And I'm still confused."

Fred sighs and continues with his explanation, "Wood talks to himself when he's stressed or worried. He also only left the infirmary for classes and dinner when you were out. You really should be more careful about who hears you rambling on, Wood."

Oliver doesn't have any reaction to Fred's words. He just looks at me and waits to see what I do about it. Normally, I wouldn't believe a word Fred says, but since Oliver isn't confirming or denying, my skepticism is non-existent.

Katie Bell chooses that moment to walk in with the rest of the girls on the team and all of the awkwardness from a moment ago disappears.

"Hey," she says, "Chandler's awake. Strange day."

"Yeah," I agree, looking at Fred.

"O...kay, then. Shall we go to the pitch?" Katie says, noticing that she missed something important.

Oliver gets up and we all follow him into the cold morning air. He's been silent for a while, and he doesn't stop now. He doesn't protest when I mount my broom and take to the air, either, but he does keep his eyes on me the whole time.

* * *

I can't concentrate in any of my classes today, because I keep thinking about what Fred said this morning. Why can't there be a manual on how to handle situations like this? If Oliver liked me, then he would do something about it. He's that kind of person. I think.

I don't really have any clear thoughts today except that I'm confused and don't know what's going on. Snape takes twenty-five points off of Gryffindor because I spaced out in the middle of some "important mixture" of two Muggle ingredients and some sort of powdery substance (I was spaced out when Snape was explaining that, too).

In the common room after classes, I sit at my usual place in between Fred and George, doing homework. Well, more like I'm checking my homework to the twins'. In other words, I'm screwed. Dead. Done for. However these wizard people say that.

"Are you feeling alright, Chandler?" Fred asks just before we leave for dinner.

"Yeah," I mutter.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fine."

"Whatever you say," Fred surrenders.

At dinner I sit in between the Weasley twins again. I don't actually know why I keep doing that, because it's not like I feel safe around them. I feel safer around them than I would around You-Know-Who, but they don't have the most common sense as most people.

But that's one of the things I love most about Hogwarts.

After dinner in the Gryffindor common room, I resolve to doing the rest of my homework in the morning. Arianna argues that I should start on my long-term assignments, and I argue that I recently had head trauma. She doesn't believe that thinking gives me a headache, though, she's smarter than that.

While I don't particularly want to do homework, I don't really want to go to bed either. I end up reading a book about Quidditch for most of the night, but after virtually everyone in the house has decided to go to sleep, and only me, Oliver, Hermione Granger, and a few seventh years remain, I get to a particularly boring part in the book. Who (other than Oliver) cares about the tools used to carve out broomsticks?

I set the book down and shake my head back into reality. Oliver looks over at me, probably wondering why I stopped reading about the best sport in the world. I let my head fall back and stare at the ceiling for about thirty seconds before my head starts pounding. I tilt my head forward slowly, letting my blood return to its normal flow. I swing my legs off the couch and go to the nearly vacant table that the Quidditch team usually sits at.

"Do you always stay up this late?" I ask Oliver after I sit down.

"Depends on the night." He replies looking me in the eyes. I flit my gaze to the table, suddenly kind of uncomfortable. "Chandler, can I ask you something?"

I look back up, "Yeah,"

"Okay, um," Oliver suddenly seems at a loss for words, "if Fred were telling the truth this morning...that I fancied you...would you care?"

"Depends. Was he right?"

"Possibly,"

"Okay, why did that have to be so awkward?" Yep. That's me. Calm on the outside, when on the inside I'm like a little kid on Christmas.

"I don't know." He says before, "And your fine with that?"

"Yeah, I...guess...so." I probably sound like more of an idiot than I feel like right now, but I couldn't care less about my stupidity right now.

"Can I ask you something else?"

"Yeah," it comes out as more of a question than a statement.

"Do you fancy me?"

"Possibly," I say, imitating Oliver. I look around and notice that the common room is empty except for the two of us. Oliver brushes some of my messy hair out of my eyes and then, the next thing I know, his lips are on mine.

Okay, screw little girl on Christmas, my freakin' birthday came early.

After a few seconds, maybe minutes, maybe days, he pulls away.

"Fred and George never have to know about this, right?" I ask, just because I don't know what kind of things they would do. Oliver laughs a bit before I remember how late it is, "I should probably get to bed. I have Quidditch tomorrow, you know."

"I'll see you in the morning, then." Oliver says before getting up and walking off toward his dormitory. I get up and try not to skip back to my room, where I barely have time to change into my pajamas before I fall asleep smiling.

* * *

_Okay, I know that was _really_ typical, but I needed to get it in there, and I also needed to update. So SHABOOM! Kissing scene. Hurrah. Please review...don't tell me that it wasn't very creative and that you could have gotten a first kiss scene like that in any romance-y story. Anyway...review, and I'll do my best to update soon. Gracias!_


	7. We Can Handle Hufflepuff

**Chandler POV  
**

I'm the first person awake in the morning again. Oliver comes down the stairs, not exactly giddy like me, but he's happier than usual. He sees me and gives me a strange look.

"Today's the second day you've been up first, right?" He asks.

"Yeah," I move my feet off the couch so that he can sit down, which he does.

"How have you been?" He asks after a few seconds, as if we haven't seen each other in three weeks.

"Didn't we go over that, like, eight hours ago?"

"Maybe, but that was eight hours ago."

I smile, "Well, when you put it _that _way." Sarcasm slightly tints my voice. "I'm fine."

"And you're sure you want to play Quidditch today?" He jokes.

"Yes."

"But it's an actual match this time...are you sure you can handle Hufflepuff?"

"I'll be fine, thank you very much." I say, bringing a laugh out of the boy sitting next to me. Afterwards, he takes a moment to kiss me.

"Fred and George aren't going to know about that one either, are they?" Oliver asks after we break apart, mocking my paranoia.

Of all the times those devils could have walked into the common room, it had to be then, "Fred and George aren't going to know about what, Wood?" Fred says curiously. When Fred's curious, he gets answers, and in this case, that's not good.

"Fred and George aren't going to know about what Chandler's getting you for the holidays, that's all." Oliver lies.

"I bet we could guess it." Fred ponders, "Fireworks?" Fred asks. I shake my head.

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans?" George guesses. I shake my head again, trying hard not to laugh.

"A one-way ticket to Antarctica for Percy?" Fred says. I shake my head, and he says, "Such a shame, we could really use that one."

"Yeah," George agrees before they plop into plush chairs. Katie and Harry come down with the rest of the team after a while (and an irritating amount of guesses), and Oliver makes us go over everyone's roles in the match, though they haven't changed much.

Oliver lets us relax until breakfast, so why he made us all get up early is beyond me. I guess he just wanted us to be the first in the Great Hall for breakfast.

A few minutes after we've entered, the Slytherins appear, walking like they own the world. I notice that Oliver moves a bit closer to me in the middle of a glare-fest with my half brother.

After breakfast, Oliver takes us all out to the pitch before the match to make sure that we're all familiar with the wind, the temperature, and the amount of light filtering through the thin clouds. Of course, we all are okay with the Quidditch conditions, and then we split apart to go into the locker rooms.

"What's up with you and Wood, Chandler?" Katie asks me after we reach the locker room.

"What do you mean?"

"You two seem...I don't know...different." She shrugs, pulling her hair back. "But if you're sure there's nothing happening..." she leaves the sentence open for an explanation.

"I think I would know if something were happening between me and Oliver." I assure her.

"Alright," she says, as we all file out of the locker room and out towards where the boys are all waiting impatiently.

"Girls take so long to change." Fred observes.

"Yeah," George agrees, "they've got to change their hair, and fix their makeup, and then they have to talk about boys and drama." George shudders.

"We don't take _that _long," I defend myself. Fred and George nod sarcastically, and out of the corner of my eyes, I see a small, silent laugh forming on Oliver. I roll my eyes at my sexist friends before we make our way to the hard ground on the field. We mount, and then Madam Hooch blows her whistle and we're in the air.

The small breeze gives my broom a bit of resistance to movement, but I'm still flying like I used to dream about when I was little. I didn't have any interest in Quidditch, though, I wanted to be able to fly with wings, but a broom's close enough.

Katie tosses the Quaffle to me, and then I throw it up to Angelina, and we make a clean run across the field for an easy goal. Hufflepuff doesn't seem surprised about this in the slightest. If it were any other House, I'd be a bit worried, but with Hufflepuff, I'm expecting an easy match.

In about five minutes, Harry spots the Golden Snitch and starts racing after it. I don't know how he can see the thing. True, it's shiny, but it's smaller than Marcus' brain, and that's saying something.

A Hufflepuff Chaser comes after me after I've gotten the Quaffle again. I have a straight shot to ten points, and all of the other Chasers are preoccupied. The Chaser races after me as fast as his broom will go, and then there's a roar of happiness from the crowd. I have to grip the broomstick to avoid being knocked off by the Hufflepuff, who has turned around to see Harry slowing himself down and stumbling off the broom.

He doesn't have much of a reaction, but I wouldn't notice if he did, because I (along with the rest of the team) am flying at full speed towards Harry.

Alicia's the first to speak, screaming at the top of her lungs to be heard, "Harry! Are you alright?" She takes the immediate motherly job, making sure Harry's small fall off his broom hasn't affected him much.

He screams his reply back that he's fine before the rest of the team engulfs him. We stumble our way back to the castle in a large mob of Gryffindors. We probably couldn't have fit one more person in the common room, although a lot of the third years have to disappear to their dorms to be able to concentrate on their homework. By about eight, the members of the team are the only people left in the common room. We're all spread out, so that the twins and Harry are taking up one cluster of couches, Angelina, Alicia and Katie are gossiping on another cluster, and Oliver and I are sitting on the only remaining couch, trying to avoid looking at all suspicious while talking about the Hufflepuff's reaction to loss. Eventually, the twins get tired of waiting for something interesting to happen on our side of the common room and leave for bed, Harry follows them, and the Angelina and Alicia follow Katie up to bed when she develops a headache. I notice Katie wink at me before she leaves, though. So I feel like she knows more than she's letting on, and that she thinks we deserve some alone time.

"Harry's got a nice broom," I mutter. "Wish I had one."

"Not going to happen," Oliver says before pulling me closer to him and kissing the top of my head.

"Why can't I?"

"Because they're expensive, and you don't need one." He explains. I look at him, "Harry only has one because he's a Seeker, and he needs to be able to move fast." He answers my unsaid question. "Do you want one that bad?"

"No," I say, letting all of the hurt emotion leave my face. "I'm much better at acting than Fred gives me credit for."

Oliver smiles and pulls me into a short kiss. "Yeah," he says, "Please don't do that again."

"Fine," I groan.

"Thank you."

I smile and let Oliver pull me into a tight embrace. I tuck my feet behind my legs and lean into Oliver's chest, listening to the rapid beat of his heart. He strokes my hair, and in the silence that follows, I take comfort in the rise and fall of Oliver's breathing.

After a few minutes, Oliver moves his shoulder, which is probably numb. "Did you fall asleep?" He asks looking down at me.

"No, well, maybe, what time is it?"

"I don't know, probably time for you to go to your room."

"I'm not tired," I complain, tilting my head up so I can look Oliver in the eyes.

"I wouldn't care if you were bouncing off the walls with energy." He jokes, I give him a pleading look, and he responds with, "_I'm_ tired. Are you okay with that? And we both have to be up early tomorrow."

"_Fine,_ but _only_ because I wanna be up first again."

"Is that a challenge, Chandler?"

"Maybe."

"It's on. I'll see you in the morning." Oliver says. He gives me a quick kiss before disappearing upstairs. I laugh a bit to myself before heading up my own flight of stairs and quietly getting into bed and falling asleep.

* * *

_I know that chapter had a lot of fluff in it...sorry to those who hate it...you're welcome to those who love it. Anyway...pretty box underneath this...you should consider typing something into it...I'd like to know what you think anyway. Please don't talk about grammar because I have friends at school who freak out about that. _


	8. When the Twins Know the Truth

**Oliver POV**

I seriously wonder how Chandler got in my head. It's as if she has some force that she carries with her that makes it impossible to hate her. Even the Slytherin's _deal_ with her. And that's saying something. It doesn't make much sense, but at this point in time, I don't really care about explanations.

"Good morning," she says after I've descended the last step into the common room. She's wide awake, with her brown hair looking smooth and lighter than usual, cascading over her shoulders.

"Did you even leave the common room last night?" I ask, sitting next to her on the couch.

She pretends to be hurt by my accusation, "Of course I did!"

"Just checking." I say, kissing her on the cheek. "Did you do something to your hair?"

"No. It's probably just the sun. I have been outside for half of my third year." She jokes, ruffling my messy hair. Chandler smiles at me before leaning in to press her lips against mine.

"Hello there, lovebirds!" George says from the staircase as he and his twin come down laughing like hysterical teenage girls. Chandler pulls away and immediately turns red.

"Sorry," Fred says half-heartedly, "we'll leave. Resume snogging." Fred and George turn toward the staircase.

That sounds like a perfectly fine idea to me, but Chandler jumps off the couch and grabs both boys' shoulders. She whispers something to them and they both nod like Percy might have when he was a kid before turning around to sit on one of the couches. Chandler comes back over and sits next to me, and an extremely awkward silence settles over the four of us. _  
_

"So..." Fred prompts conversation.

"How long have you two been...you two?" George asks.

"A few days," Chandler says, letting me stay silent.

"And were you ever planning to tell us about it?" Fred takes a turn at interrogation.

"I was contemplating that."

"Does Arianna know?" The twins say at the same time. I hate it when they do that.

"No, and she's not going to until I decide to tell her."

_Well, _somebody_ got sassy overnight, _I think, smiling to myself at Chandler's sudden impulse of attitude.

Alicia and Angelina come down the stairs behind Katie, who says with exasperation, "What did I miss today?"

"Not much," Fred and George lie. Katie immediately looks at the small gap in between me and Chandler, seems to make a mental note to herself about something (I don't think I want to know what), and the sits next to Fred. Alicia and Angelina sit on the same couch as me and Chandler.

Katie gives them both hurt looks as they force Chandler and I closer together. I have to resist the urge to wrap my arm around her shoulder. As soon as Harry gets his lazy bum down here we can rid ourselves of this awkwardness. _  
_

A few minutes of silence later, Harry comes down, looking confused about the lack of noise. He pushes it from his mind though. He seems flustered about something, though I don't know or particularly care what, as long as he can still see and fly.

"Shall we get a move on then?" He suggests, hoping just as much as me that the awkwardness will end. Chandler and I go in the front, she seems to have lost all of her nerve in her conversation with the twins. Harry, Fred and George walk in the middle, with Katie, Alicia and Angelina at their heels, urging them to move faster.

I can't help wondering why Katie's so irritated today, but I decide not to ask about it, and let all of my thoughts drift to Quidditch. I haven't been doing much thinking about it lately, which kind of bothers me, but then I remember that I've been thinking about Chandler staying alive, and about Chandler not falling off her broom again, and wow, I think about Chandler a lot.

* * *

After Quidditch practice, me, Chandler, Fred, and George decide to go walk around the grounds. I would prefer it to be just me and Chandler, but we all agree that would be a bit suspicious. Pretty much, we leave them walking behind us to plan some prank involving fireworks and an elephant (I really hope that one doesn't work), and they leave us walking ahead of them to talk.

"So," Chandler starts, lacing her fingers through mine. "What are you thinking about?"

"Uh," the question take me slightly off guard, "Quidditch," I admit. She kind of shrinks, "and you." I lean down and kiss her on the cheek.

"If the two of you are going to be doing stuff like that, save it for later!" Fred calls out from behind us. Just to irritate him, I kiss Chandler again, this time on the mouth. The twins groan in mock disgust about that, but I don't really care.

The four of us sit in the grass by the lake and watch the giant lazy squid. Fred and George are still plotting about how they plan to sneak an elephant into Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Eventually, the slow movements of the squid disappear under water. I lean back on the soft grass, and Chandler lays her head on my chest. We both stare at the sky, though I think she's thinking more about the clouds, and not about how high a broom could fly with the clouds at their current altitude.

"It would entirely depend on the broom," I mutter to myself stupidly.

"What?" Chandler sits up and asks as if I've just woken her from a trance.

"Nothing," I say, and she smiles almost like the twins before they do something evil. "What?" I ask her, slightly worried that Fred and George have started to have a bad influence on her.

"Oh, nothing," she says, putting her head back where it was innocently.

"What?" I persist.

"Nothing," she says, and I can tell that she's smiling.

"Tell me," I start tickling her sides, and in a few seconds we're both laughing hysterically, but neither of us can remember why.

Fred and George have stopped conversing and are now staring at us.

"Are you two always like that?" They ask simultaneously. "Because it's weird."

"You're weird," Chandler retorts. beginning to laugh again, and fairly soon, the twins have decided laughing for no reason seems fun, and they join us.

Then we're all rolling around in the grass, clutching our sides. Even the giant squid is moving around in the lake a bit faster than normal, flailing it's tentacles around at a slow, but closer to normal speed. Eventually Chandler and I roll into each other.

"Ow!" She yelps, still laughing.

"You okay?" I ask, to which she nods, and I kiss her lightly on the forehead before I decide we should all probably get to the common room to work on homework.

* * *

Dinner that night isn't entirely pleasant, with Katie, Alicia and Angelina all whispering about something and frequently glancing at me. I'm kind of afraid of laughter, because my sides hurt so much I could barely move when we were all walking back to the common room.

After dinner, I find out that it's almost impossible to concentrate on History of Magic when when the most amazing girl in the world is on one side of me and three, gossiping, less-amazing girls are on the other side.

After what feels like forever, the common room is empty, except for me and Chandler. After Fred and George are definitely gone, she practically falls into me.

"Somebody's tired." I observe.

"Somebody speaks the truth," she says, sitting up and pulling some of her hair out of her eyes. Chandler wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me closer to her, so that our foreheads are touching, and I wrap my hands slightly above her waist.

"Do you know why Katie was worked up today?" I whisper, seeing no reason to talk when we're this close.

"Don't know, don't care." Chandler sighs before kissing me. I pull her ever so slightly closer to me, and we stay like that for at least two minutes before she pulls away and leans her head against my shoulder. I kiss the top of her head and stroke her soft, wavy hair.

Eventually, I start losing the feeling in my shoulder.

"Chandler?" I ask, moving my shoulder around to get her to move. She sits up.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think you should maybe go to sleep?" I suggest.

She groans, "Why?"

"You have to be up early, and you need to be able to practice in the morning."

"Can't I have _one_ day that I don't have to get up early?"

I smile, kiss her on the nose, and say, "Absolutely not."

After a few quiet moments, Chandler asks, "Why do you have to be so adorable?"

"Why shouldn't I be?" I act as arrogant as possible. She just shakes her head and kisses me. "You still have to go to sleep, you know."

Chandler lets her head fall back before looking back into my eyes, "That's stupid, Oliver."

"I don't care."

"Ugh," she stands up, giving in, "Fine."

"Goodnight," I call after her.

"Goodnight," She says back before disappearing up the stairs. I smile to myself before going into my own dormitory. I wonder how a Nimbus 2000 would fly at this time of night. It probably wouldn't, because the rider would need to see, and it's pitch black.

_Shut up, Wood, you can think about that in the morning, _I tell myself as I drift off to sleep.

* * *

_Okay! So that was my first Oliver POV chapter...tell me what you thought! Merci! And no, I'm not French...and I don't speak fluent Spanish, either...Google Translate is my friend... :)_


	9. Suspicious Half-Brothers

**Chandler POV  
**

In about a week, Halloween comes with a trip to Hogsmeade. Almost as soon as my feet hit the ground, Fred and George have pulled Arianna, Oliver, and I into Zonko's to point out (_very_ indirectly) the things that they could use for some evil plan of theirs.

"You know," I start after they've explained some extremely expensive thing, "even if I wanted to get a ton of stuff that you'll use against me in the future, I can't afford any of this."

"Yeah, we know," Fred and George say simultaneously, looking to Oliver.

"You know I'm saving up for a nice broomstick." He reminds them. Like he's never stopped talking about it. He's waiting for one that practically screams his name. Just to get him to shut up about it, I've thought about making Fred and George come up with something like that, but I don't trust them to keep it safe.

"Alright, alright, don't get started about it."

"Well, I just want something that won't develop a left curve in two years, that's all," Oliver goes on to explain the exact thing that he wants.

"You would have to save up your money for the rest of your life to be able to afford something like that." I tell him, hoping he'll shut up about it, even though he is extremely cute when he's ranting.

"I do have a friend who just happens to be the sister, sorry, _half-_sister of the friend of an extremely rich wizarding family." He looks at me.

"Get over it, Oliver, that's never going to happen." I say, causing him to give me a pleading look. I shake my head, and he gives up. For now.

Katie's voice rings out from behind the four of us, "What's up with all of you?"

I turn to look at her, "Not much," I say. She flits her gaze from me to Oliver and decides she'll figure this situation out later.

"Want to go get a butterbeer?" She suggests.

"Sure," Fred and George say at the same time.

"I guess so," I shrug.

"Give me, like, thirty seconds," Arianna says, stuffing her purchases into a bag. Katie doesn't seem to expect Oliver to say anything, which he doesn't. He's probably still kind of bummed about not being able to get the non-existent best broom ever.

* * *

Once we all get back to Hogwarts and put the stuff we've bought in our rooms, Oliver has the reserve team on the pitch, because they need just as much practice as me. I'm in the mood for fresh air and I don't have anything better to do, so I decide to take _Quidditch Through the Ages_ out to the stands to re-read it.

After about an hour of half reading and half watching the reserve team practice, I notice a large mass of green coming towards the pitch. I try to ignore them, but end up putting the book away when Oliver sees them too and begins to fly down to the ground. I get to the ground as the rest of the reserve team are descending to stand behind Oliver. I join them, and even if Marcus notices me, he doesn't mention it.

"What are you doing here?" Oliver asks, probably trying to avoid getting angry.

"Practicing Quidditch," Marcus says, as if it should be obvious. "I would assume that you were too, but your team isn't a bunch of baboons. Is it?"

"No, what's it like, training monkeys on broomsticks?" Oliver retorts. I have to bite my tongue to keep from laughing at Marcus as he tries to comprehend what was just said. After a few seconds, he seems to understand the insult. And just when he gets mad, he _has_ to notice me mixed in with the reserves (who are not a bunch of baboons, just in case there was any confusion about that).

"Chandler, what are you doing here? The reserves aren't bad enough that they need _you_ to teach them, are they?"

"I was bored in the common room," I say shortly, hoping that he won't drag out this conversation more than he has to.

"Really, or are you just tagging along behind your boyfriend?"

I almost laugh at the irony of that comment, "And what might your reaction be if I were?"

"I don't know," Marcus says, looking suspiciously from me to Oliver, and then back to me. "Why?"

I shrug, "Just wondering."

"Alright then, we'll be practicing now, if you don't mind, Wood."

"I think I do mind, actually," Oliver says. He seems to have been fighting laughter three seconds ago, too.

"I haven't got time for this," Marcus says irritatedly before leading his team away.

As soon as the Slytherins are out of hearing range, one of the reserve Chasers looks from Oliver to me and then sighs, "I'm confused."

"And I think you're going to stay that way, Kayla." The reserve Keeper says, elbowing her in the ribs. Most of the reserve players are looking at me, probably because they didn't notice I was here.

"I'm gonna go work on my homework," I mutter before walking toward the castle.

* * *

At dinner that night, I sit in between Fred and Oliver, trying as hard as I can not to notice Marcus watching me like a snake. I know that I shouldn't be worried about that, but as my older brother he does have _some_ right to be protective about me. But still, he has absolutely no right to freak out about who I have a romantic relationship with. It's kind of irritating. Really, I wouldn't be complaining about it if he were a bit more brotherly sometimes. Just because I start spending time with the captain of his rival Quidditch team, he has to start freaking out about me.

"Chandler? Are you feeling alright?" Fred's voice interrupts my thoughts.

"Huh?" I sit up, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You were staring at a bowl of grapes on the Slytherin table."

"I told you, I'm fine."

"If you want grapes that bad," Fred mutters, offering me a bowl of grapes. I shake my head.

"Chandler," Oliver starts.

I turn to look at him, "I'm feeling fine, if that's your question."

"Alright, alright, I'm shutting up." Oliver gives me a 'We'll talk about this later' sort of look before we all go back to the common room.

In the two minutes it takes us to get back to the portrait hole, I've already started wishing I'd eaten more at dinner, and regretting that I didn't let Oliver finish whatever it was that he was going to say.

Fred awkwardly mutters the password and we all climb through the hole in the wall. In the common room, I sit next to Arianna, because I need her to correct my mistakes. If I wasn't thinking hard about stupid things at dinner, I am now.

"What happened to you?" Arianna asks me after I misspell the word 'the'.

"Just...family issues." I tell her, correcting my mistake.

"What specifically?"

"What do you think?"

Arianna quietly laughs, "Marcus?"

"Yep," I nod, giving up on homework for the night and putting my parchment away.

"What did he do this time?"

I haven't told her about me and Oliver yet, so I can't really explain it in full detail. "He's just being an idiot."

"Does this have anything to do with you and Wood? Because you two have been a _lot_ closer in the past few days."

"Yeah, I know."

"So are you two, like, you know..."

"Maybe," I mutter. She is my best female friend. She probably should have been the first person to know, and she would have if the twins hadn't found out on their own terms.

"And when did that happen?" Arianna puts her books and parchment on a table and looks at me expectantly.

"A few weeks ago." I say.

"Why didn't you tell me!" She says in a yell-ish whisper.

"I never thought I needed to."

"Really," Arianna starts, "or were you just not going to tell anybody."

"I wasn't planning on telling anybody. Then Fred and George found out, and-,"

"Fred and George found out before me? How did that happen?"

"Uh..."

"Never mind." Arianna shakes her head.

I look down at the velvety surface of the couch and change the subject, "So Snape was pretty light on the homework last week."

"Yeah, I guess so," Arianna still seems slightly troubled that I didn't tell her about me and Oliver earlier. After a few more minutes of awkward silence, Arianna yawns and puts all of her stuff away. "I tired." She gets up and starts walking toward the staircase.

"Night," I say before she's out of hearing range before pulling out _Hogwarts, A History_. True, it's boring, but it's much more interesting than staring at a wall.

While I'm reading, the common room slowly empties until me, Fred, George, and Oliver remain. The twins are plotting something (hopefully they've dropped their elephant scheme), and Oliver is bent over a roll of parchment, scribbling something, most likely about Quidditch.

I put the book down, walk over to the table Oliver is at, and sit down in the chair next to him.

"Hey," I say, glancing at the parchment on the table in front of him. Hey, it's about Quidditch. _Who would've guessed something like that?_

"Hey, Chandler."

"What were you gonna say at dinner?"

"I don't remember." Oliver sighs before sinking back into his chair. I know he's lying, and I'm not going to let the subject drop that easily, because I was ticked off earlier, and now I'm just curious.

"I'm not stupid. What were you gonna say?"

"I was going to ask what was _wrong_, seeing as there was no point in asking if you were alright or not."

"Fair enough."

"So, what's wrong?"

"Just my stupid brother."

"When did you start calling him your brother? I thought he was the horrible, awful, treacherous, hideous _half-_brother."

I quietly laugh at him making fun of my array of vocabulary reserved specifically for Marcus, "He is, but I'm worried, and I don't want to spend all my energy insulting him." I lean my head against his shoulder and sigh.

"That doesn't make any sense, but I think I get it."

"Good, 'cause I don't want to explain it."

Oliver kisses the top of my head before saying, "I'm expecting you to be awake before me tomorrow, you should go to sleep."

"Fine," I say, barely above a whisper. "Goodnight," I turn and kiss him on the lips before disappearing up the stairs for the night.

* * *

_Okay...so the usual...review, or I will send my magical cat to attack you in your sleep! Just kidding, I don't have a magical cat...although that would be awesome...anyway, review. PLEASE. Thanks. :)_

_(By the way, don't forget to review.)_


	10. Elephants and Adorable Rants

**Chandler POV  
**

I've grown used to waking up before the sun comes out, and having a few minutes in the common room to myself before anybody else can come in.

Today, however, I get downstairs to see Katie Bell sitting on the couch I usually occupy, and Oliver sitting on a different couch with his elbows on his knees.

"What did I miss?"

"Nothing," Katie says in the same tone I frequently use with her. I feel kind of aggravated by that, but I guess she probably feels like this every morning when we do this to her. I can live with curiosity for a while.

"O...kay then." I say, sitting next to Oliver. For some reason, I feel like ticking Katie off, so I sit closer to the Quidditch captain than necessary. Katie glares at me, but then her expression softens and she looks to the staircases, where our favorite devilish twins are descending loudly.

"Morning, Weasleys." Katie says.

"Morning, Katie." Fred says, shortly followed by an acknowledging nod from George. The twins sit on the couch with Katie before speaking again.

"How are you two?" George asks me and Oliver.

"Eh," I say. "I've had better mornings."

"And you, Wood?"

"Same, I suppose."

"And is there a reason for this?" Fred asks no one in particular.

"Well, it's raining, for one." I explain, "And I'm slightly worried because today's the day you two were planning your elephant stunt."

"Oh, that didn't work out," George says with a wave of his hand.

"Good." Oliver says. "Madam Pomfrey doesn't need Gryffindor's third years in the hospital wing."

Katie mumbles something that I can't quite hear.

"What was that Katie?" Fred and George look at her.

"Nothing," she says sheepishly.

"No, no, we want to know."

"Guys, leave her alone," I defend her. I don't know why, but I feel kind of bad for her. I have my secrets, she can have hers.

"You're so nice sometimes. I seriously wonder how you're related to Marcus." George says.

"I do, too, but for completely different reasons."

Harry comes down the stairs at almost the exact same moment as Alicia and Angelina, who are both angry that Katie didn't wake them.

We make our way to the pitch, with Oliver in the front and the twins in the back. I swear I hear the word 'elephant,' but I don't say anything about it.

"So," Angelina starts in a quiet voice next to me, "Why was Katie up so early? And why didn't she wake us?"

"I don't know," I say, "I came downstairs at a particularly awkward moment between her and Oliver. Do you know what's going on with her, because she's been acting really weird lately."

"Uh," Angelina starts, "You know that she has a crush on Wood, and she thinks that you do too, and that if he were choosing between the two of you, he'd pick you because you're his favourite on the team."

"Harry's his favorite on the team, and I thought she got over him last year." I say, thinking.

"Well, you're his favourite girl on the team." Angelina corrects herself. "And then you and Wood start spending a ton of time together, disappearing off on walks around the lake with the twins. She's just suspicious, I think."

"I guess that's fair."

"So do you have a crush on Wood? Because you certainly act like it sometimes."

"I do?" I ask, slightly worried.

"Yeah, but only, like, in the way you look at him, or the way you talk to him, and things like that." Angelina explains, before asking again, "So do you like him?"

"I, um," I stutter.

"I think he's hot, but he's too obsessed with Quidditch and winning, and being right all the time, you know?"

I nod, slightly deep in thought about Oliver and his obsessions. He is kind of over-obsessed, "Yeah, I guess." I say eventually. Then I realize she just called my boyfriend hot. Not exactly okay with that...although it's true...nope, not thinking about that right now. I mentally slap myself while I mount my broom.

You'd think I'd have learned the telling myself not to think about something doesn't actually work. I'm just ignorant like that, I guess.

"FLINT! FLY STRAIGHT!" Oliver screams at me after I almost ram into the stands.

"Sorry, Oliver," I mutter, irritated with myself for spacing out.

* * *

In History of Magic, I sit at a table with Arianna, and struggle to pay attention.

"Chandler, wake up," she whispers elbowing me in the ribs.

"Ow," I mutter.

"Sorry," she says before turning her attention back to Binns.

Suddenly I hear a loud elephant-like noise from behind me.

_Crap, is that what I think it is? _I turn around and see Fred riding an elephant into the classroom while George flies on a broom above him, tossing Filibuster fireworks everywhere. Arianna starts muttering under her breath about interrupting an important lecture, while I'm laughing with the rest of the class as the elephant makes its way through the classroom. Professor Binns looks startled as Fred starts throwing Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans around. I collect the ones the land on my table, and I quickly grab the ones in front of Arianna before she pushes them off the table in disgust.

"There's no point wasting good candy, Arianna." I tell her, shaking my head and popping some in my mouth.

"WEASLEYS!" Filch screams from behind the elephant. Fred and George both turn around. George tosses a firework at Flich, which crackles in his rage-twisted face before backing up a bit and exploding in a shower of sparks. Fred throws some beans at him. The entire room has gone deadly silent now, we're all watching Filch, Fred, and George. "Get. Down. Here. Now." Filch says through gritted teeth. George flies down and dismounts, while Fred drops down from the side of the elephant.

"Yes, Mr. Filch?" Fred asks innocently.

"What is the meaning of this?" Filch asks, looking around at the mess of the classroom.

"Fun." George shrugs.

"Well, it's not going to be fun when you polish the staircases tonight." Filch growls.

"Oh, we can't." Fred says, "We have Quidditch practice."

"You weren't thinking about Quidditch practice when you were making a mess of the school were you?" Filch asks a rhetorical question.

I bite my tongue to keep the laughter down when George says, "Actually, when I was flying up there, I was thinking about what Wood would be screaming at me, that's the only reason I didn't fall."

"And a shame you didn't, too." Filch mutters, his words echoing off the walls.

"Excuse me, Mr. Filch, did you just wish for the pain and potential death of a student?" Binns asks, astonished.

"No, no, no, it's a shame he didn't fall to the elephant, which is much safer than a broomstick. That's all." Filch turns back to the twins. "As for you, twenty-five points from Gryffindor each, and I'll expect you to serve three detentions a week for the next month. Meet me in my office for the rest of your punishment. Nine o'clock. Sharp." He speaks to the twins as if they're a vermin Mrs. Norris failed to catch.

* * *

At dinner that night, all anyone can talk about is the Weasley's success at getting an elephant in the castle. A group of first and second years surround me while I explain the events.

"Do you still have any of the beans?" Somebody asks.

"How did they get the elephant in?" Another person asks.

"What did Binns do about it?"

"Did you get a photograph?"

Questions like this are all over the school, but I don't feel like answering, so I ignore their rambling and return to my food after I've recalled the event thirty times.

After our nightly Quidditch practice, I head to the library to get something done, since there's no point in trying to work in the common room.

After about half an hour of Transfigurations, I switch to reading for History of Magic. A Hufflepuff boy I don't recognize sits down next to me after a bit of this.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi." I nod to him, gladly putting the book down.

"I'm Will Evans." He holds out his hand for me to shake, which I do, just because I'm in the mood to be respectful. "I'm in second year," he says.

"Oh, I'm Chandler Flint. Third year." I say, before adding, "And yes, I'm American."

"Okay," he says.

Suddenly, a voice sends a chill down my back, "Chandler, what are you doing in the _library_?" Marcus asks.

I turn to look at him, "It would be a better idea to ask you that, seeing as I don't remember you learning how to read."

"I can _read._" Marcus retorts lamely.

"When did that happen?"

"When I was six, just like you."

"Actually, I learned how to read when I was three."

"Well, you've always been exceptionally smart."

"My half-Muggle mother would agree. As would your half-Muggle step-mother. Oh wait, they're the same person!"

"You're Marcus' sister?" The Hufflepuff asks.

"Yeah," I say, as if this should have been obvious.

"Oh, didn't know that."

"Anyway," Marcus says, shutting up the Hufflepuff, "how's the Quidditch team?"

"Fine. How're the monkeys?"

"I don't know any monkeys other than you."

"Than what would that make you?" I retort. If I just ask enough questions, maybe I can get him confused enough to leave. Or maybe I should leave.

"That would make me the half-brother of a baboon."

"Kind of like how I'm the half-sister of a troll?"

"I'm only a quarter troll, Chandler." Marcus says angrily, "and my mother was barely half."

"Okay, okay," I put my hands up in the air a bit, surrendering. "I'm gonna go back to my common room. Goodnight, Marcus. Night, Evans." I pack up my things and walk out of the library, practically running into Oliver on my way out.

"Hey, Oliver." I say, trying to ignore the fact that I can feel my brother glaring.

"Hey, Chandler. I need to talk to you about something."

"What?"

"Come with me."

"O...kay...? Oliver, where are we going?" I ask as he pulls me toward the astronomy tower. "You know if somebody sees us they're gonna have a _lot_ of questions, right?"

"Yeah, I know." He says.

After we reach the astronomy tower, I practically collapse onto the stone ground.

"Can you please warn me next time you're gonna make me run halfway across the castle?"

"Probably not," Oliver says, sitting next to me.

"So what was this thing you need to talk to me about?"

"Harry Potter."

"Why?" I ask, slightly bewildered.

"Because I saw him going into the third floor corridor, and Dumbledore told us not to go up there at the beginning of the year."

"Okay, so you dragged me up into the highest tower in Hogwarts to tell me the the Boy Who Lived is being a suspicious idiot? Are you sure you're entirely sane?"

"Yes, I'm sane. And I want to know why he was there."

"Why?" I really don't care about this.

"Because as his Quidditch captain, I have a right to know why he was late to practice."

I groan, "Why don't you ask him then?"

"Because he doesn't tell me anything. But he talks to you all the time, and you talk to me all the time."

"So..."

"So I want you to talk to him about it, and then-,"

"You want me to tell you every word he said three hundred times." I finish for Oliver.

"Precisely," he says. I laugh at him before kissing him.

"That's not gonna happen."

"And why not?" Oliver moves some of my hair out of my eyes.

"Because he's about as likely to tell me what he was doing there as Marcus is likely to give me enough money to buy you the best broom on the world, that's why."

"Please?" Oliver says.

"No," I say, shaking my head.

"Can you at least try?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's pointless. Besides, if I ask him why he's being all suspicious around the third floor corridor, he's probably gonna ask me why I'm being all suspicious around you." I explain.

"Why is that such a bad thing?"

"Because, I don't want it going all over the school that the Gryffindor Quidditch captain is dating one of his Chasers."

"I don't care."

"Well, McGonagall will, Marcus will, and I guarantee Katie will."

"You should _really_ stop worrying." Oliver kisses my forehead.

"Oh, yeah, like you don't ever worry."

"I don't."

"Quidditch." I say, trying to provoke a worried rant.

"When's our next practice? I totally forgot. And I need to talk to Potter about his glasses, the rain isn't helpful at all. Oh, and did you ever get that broom fixed? You know, the one that got hit by a Bludger? You should probably do that, your Shooting Star isn't-,"

"Oliver," I interrupt.

"What?" He looks confused. I hate to bring him out of his trance-like Quidditch state, because it's so adorable, but it's almost curfew, and I don't feel like being caught at night with a boy. My parents would just _love_ to hear about that.

"You do too worry. And we need to get back to the common room."

"You seriously think nobody's going to wonder when we walk in together?"

"I can tell them you were drilling me about Quidditch. I guess that's not entirely a lie." I stand up, Oliver quickly follows, and then we start walking back to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"And you're going to talk to Potter?"

"No. No I am not."

"Whatever, but you are going to get a new broom, right?"

"If you'll buy it."

"But, I'm saving up for-," he starts to whine.

"But you want Gryffindor to win." I mock his whining. I actually would like a new broomstick, but I highly doubt Oliver's going to pay for one, and I'm saving up to buy everybody that I know Christmas presents. I might even buy something for Marcus. But probably not.

"Yeah..."

"And your broom is better than mine."

"My answer's still no."

"Okay, fine." I pout. About five minutes after that, we reach the common room. Almost nobody notices our entering, though.

I sit down in between Oliver and Katie, since Fred and George assumed I wasn't coming tonight and there isn't a seat in between them.

"Where were you two?" Katie asks me.

"I was being forced to listen to a lecture about flying, and apparently I need a new broomstick."

"You kind of do. Your old one is laying by your bed in two pieces."

"Well, yeah, but that's just because I'm sentimental about things."

"You learn something new every day." Katie mutters to herself before returning to her homework.

Something's changed with Katie in the past year. She used to be one of my best friends, but then I'm hanging out with the person she's had a crush on since first year, and she has a huge problem with it. She used to tell me everything, but now it's like I've been replaced by Angelina and Alicia. I don't have a problem with that or anything, she probably feels like she's been replaced by the twins and Arianna. If I were her, I'd get over it. According to the rules that we made in first year, I would get him anyway, because I saw him first. I even pointed him out to her. You'd think I'd get some credit for that, but no.

_Oh, well, Chandler. Get over it and move on,_ I command myself before opening up my History of Magic assignment and preparing myself for an average, boring, tiring night.

* * *

_Okay...chapter done...review...REVIEW..._REVIEW_...okay, you don't have to review...but it would be a nice Christmas present don't you think? Thought so...go on...type something in that box and press send...thank you... :p_


	11. Inside Oliver's Head

**Oliver POV**

I won't deny that I'm kind of worried about how Professor McGonagall would react if she found out about me and Chandler. She'd probably give us some long lecture about how romance is for holiday, and that we should be focusing more on studying. Honestly, I couldn't care less. I like a girl. Big deal. I love Quidditch. Bigger deal. I'm going to play for Puddlemere United at all costs. GIGANTIC deal.

I would like to say that Chandler is the most important factor of my life, but Quidditch is, was, and always will be the most important. She's second, though. That's got to count for something, right?

If I had a dollar for every time I felt like a terrible person, I'd be rich. If I had a dollar for every night guilt kept me awake at night, I'd be rich. If I had a dollar for every time I wished I was a better, less-obsessed person, I'd be rich.

But I don't. And I don't want it either.

I've never really thought about who I really am before. Usually, I just relate every aspect of my life to Quidditch. I've wanted to play for Puddlemere United since I was born, I've only been able to understand remedial things because I put them in terms of Quidditch, my girlfriend plays Quidditch, the first Christmas present I remember getting was a broomstick. Quidditch is my life. My life is Quidditch.

Is that bad?

I don't know. I used to think I knew what was going on with my head, but I don't anymore. I'm confusing myself. Chandler's confusing me. Even Quidditch is starting to seem confusing, and that's all I've ever understood.

My mind used to be completely focused on playing Quidditch for Puddlemere United, but now I'm starting to wonder what would happen if I don't get to play professionally. What would I do with my life? I could be a coach, that would work, but I wouldn't be able to watch other people live my dream, because I'm a jealous meathead.

A lot of people would disagree about that, but what if they're just being nice? What do people say about me when I'm not around? I don't really care what other guys think of me, because that doesn't really matter. But I don't understand how girls work. I feel like every word a girl's friend says to her completely changes the way she thinks about things, and if that's true then I'm totally screwed!

It's not freaking fair.

Some people think that I have my priorities mixed up, and that I should think more about studying or being a kid while I can or some other crap like that. But the thing is, I don't want that. I want to skip all these crazy stupid teenage years and get to the part of my life where I get to really live. My older cousin says that his "good days" were when he was at Hogwarts, running around partying and snogging random Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, but that's him, not me. I spend my time thinking about Quidditch. And Chandler. But mostly Quidditch.

Curse my stupid child-like mind. Why can't I just _Wingardium Leviosa _that part of my brain away? That would be nice, if I could. Seeing as I can't, I just have to suck it up and deal with it. I don't get it. Sometimes I feel like all that will ever matter to me is Quidditch. Then I walk down to the common room and see Chandler sitting on the couch mocking my teenage pride, and I feel like she's all that will ever matter. It's so confusing. She probably gets it though, and she could probably explain it too. But I wouldn't understand any of it. Unless she explained it in terms of Quidditch, then I might get it. How would that work? It's not like the concept of love can really be explained, right?

I need to focus more on Quidditch, but Chandler keeps creeping into my head, and then I can't think straight. I hate how she can do that, but at the same time, I feel like I should be around her more often, just because she can clear my head and make me relax. And everybody knows I need that. But what if I need more than that? What if I need Chandler? It's possible. I wish it wasn't, because she deserves somebody better than me, but it's possible.

Oh, God.

What if I do need her? I don't even care that she's Marcus Flint's sister anymore. I wouldn't care if she were completely hopeless when it comes to Quidditch. I can't believe it took me so freaking long to understand why I couldn't think straight around her! I'm so stupid! I'm the biggest freaking idiot in the freaking world.

I love her.

I don't understand how. I don't understand why. But I love her. I don't understand how love works. I don't understand why it can't be simple. But I love her. I love Chandler Flint. I'm also an idiot, and the stupidest guy in the world, and probably the worst boyfriend in the world.

But holy crap, I'm in freaking love.

That's crazy.

I'm crazy.

I think.

I'm not going to do anything crazy, like tell her or anything. That would be stupid. That would be like buying a one way ticket to singleville. I don't ever want to be there again. I used to like it there, because Quidditch took the place of any sort of romantic relationship, but now, I don't know how I lived this long without feeling this way.

Marcus would probably rip my throat outfor falling in love with his sister. Screw him. Okay, he is my girlfriends half-brother. If I want to be with her, I'm going to have to deal with her brother. And I can do that. Because I love her.

I'm never going to get tired of those words.

I love Chandler Flint. I. Love. Chandler. Flint.

It's so simple, yet it's so impossibly complicated. And I thought Divination was confusing! I love her. Does she love me? She might. But why would she? I'm a terrible person. However, I'm willing to give up everything for her. Okay, not everything. I can't stop Quidditch, and I can't give up my dream of playing for Puddlemere United, but other than that. Anything.

I love her. I'm an awful, terrible, horrid person. But I'm an awful, terrible, horrid person in love. And that has to count for something.

* * *

_Okay...end of chapter...I don't really know why I did a chapter on Oliver's mind, but I just started and I kept going and then SHABOOM he's in love...so yeah...that probably sucked, but oh well...I'm probably going to do one of these for Chandler, and maybe I'll do another round later...ooh, lightbulb! Not telling though, if I really like it then you'll find out what my lightbulb! moment was for. If not, too bad. REVIEW! Merry Christmas readers!_


	12. Confrontations

**Chandler POV**

I swear Oliver seems different lately. He's just, I don't know, happier. His eyes kind of light up when he sees me, and he's a lot nicer to me about Quidditch (even though I still haven't gotten my Bludger-attacked broomstick fixed). I don't get it. It's kind of weird. I'm not complaining or anything, but I just wish I knew what was going on in his head.

I guess I'm pretty happy, too. I still wake up before him almost every morning. Katie's still suspicious and weird. Fred and George are still little devil twins. Nothing's really changed, but I feel happier than normal. I don't know why. I don't really care either.

This morning, I'm practically floating down the stairs for some stupid teenage girl-ish reason that I'm not completely aware of. I plop down on the couch and watch the stairs, waiting for somebody to come down. Katie comes downstairs about three minutes after me.

"Morning, Katie." I say.

"Morning, Chandler." She grumbles, sitting down on a chair.

"What's up with you?" I sit up and lean my elbows on my knees.

"I don't know, I just feel like this is going to be a bad day," she shrugs.

"Oh, okay then. Where were you last night? You weren't in the common room."

"I was studying in the library," she says hurriedly, "Why?"

"I was just wondering. I noticed that George was gone, too, but Fred was here. Weird, right?"

"Yeah." Katie says, scooting back as if I've crossed some personal line. "Very."

I think about the possibilities of Katie and George both being gone, but their partners in crime still being here.

"Oh my God, you were with George last night, weren't you?" I say after I put the pieces together.

"I'm not saying anything until you tell me what's going on with you and Wood." She says stubbornly.

"There's nothing going on with me and Oliver." I lie.

"Whatever, Flint. There's nothing going on with me and George." She snaps.

I'm slightly taken aback by her sudden switch to last name basis.

"Sheesh, I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"I just have one question." She says, forgetting that she's mad at me. "Why is Wood so happy around you? If there's nothing going on between you two, then he should be just like any other normal person around you. So why?"

I shrug, "I don't know."

"Chandler, didn't I tell you in first year that I fancied him?" She says accusingly.

"Well, yeah, but I saw him first, and I also pointed him out to you."

"Ha! You just admitted that you fancy him!"

"What?" I start getting defensive.

"You got all freaked out when I pointed out that by our rules, Wood's mine. And then you stated how by our rules he's yours. That's a clear sign there, Chandler."

"I-," I try to speak, but she cuts me off.

"You fancy Wood. I fancy Wood. I fancied him first." She snaps.

"I saw him first." I snap back, getting kind of irritated.

"Don't use the rules I came up with against me."

"You didn't come up with them! Me, you, and Arianna came up with them."

"Arianna doesn't need them, and you don't follow them. So I take credit."

"You don't follow them either!" I try not to shout. I'm fighting over a boy with my ex-best friend because she's too stubborn to realize that Oliver gets to choose who he ends up with, and it probably won't be either of us. So this is a completely pointless argument.

"How do I not follow them?"

"I. Saw. Him. First. So if you're going to use those stupid rules against me, then you should think about all of them."

"Well, rule number one was that whoever fancied him first gets dibs."

"I think that rule number one was that whoever kisses him first gets dibs." I mutter.

"Did you just admit that you've kissed him?"

"Who gives a crap if I kissed him?"

"I do!"

"Why?"

"Because I like him and you _know_ it!"

"Well, excuse me for not thinking about my over-dramatic friend's feelings when I'm with somebody I like!"

"So you_ do_ like him?!"

"Yes! I like him, and he likes me. And I don't give a crap if you have a problem with it. Suck. It. Up."

Katie practically screams at that, but I ignore her and turn my attention back to the staircase, where (speak of the devil) Oliver is descending into the common room. He looks from me to Katie, then back to me. Then back to Katie. He then decides to let us be crazy hormonal teenage girls and sits next to me on the couch.

"So what did I miss?" He asks, trying to understand why Katie's giving him a glare that could set something on fire.

"Katie's being an idiot." I say calmly. For some insane reason, all of my irritation and anger completely vanishes when he's near me. Weird.

"You mean like you?" Katie retorts.

"No, I mean like you." I tell her.

"Okay, no more insane teenage girl fights, please. You actually woke me up."

"Oh, really?" I say, turning my attention back to Oliver.

"Yeah, really. Something about somebody fancying me in first year, and some stupid rule book about boys. I don't know. I don't understand girls. You're like a different species of species."

I'm about to make some remark about how sexist that is when Katie almost shouts in frustration.

"What?" Oliver asks innocently. God, he's adorable.

"I really want to hate you two, but you're just so dang cute together!"

"I'm confused." Oliver states, looking at me for an explanation.

I shrug, "I have absolutely no idea."

"Alright then."

The twins come down the stairs laughing about something, but their smiles vanish as soon as they see Katie glaring at me.

"I was wondering who's lovely voice woke me up." Fred jokes. George stays quiet. I would ask him about it, but he doesn't look like he's in the mood for explanations.

"Oh, shut up, Fred." Katie snaps.

"Can somebody please explain what's going on here?" Oliver asks, because he's just as confused as Fred.

"Katie got ticked at me because she likes you, and she knows that I like you, too, and then she started talking about this thing we did in first year, and then I pointed out that she was wrong, and then she started talking about how she liked you first, and then I let it slip that I kissed you first, and now here we are." I explain quickly, almost forgetting that people actually have to understand what I'm saying.

"So, Katie fancies me, and she has a problem with you fancying me as well?" Oliver tries to get everything cleared up.

"Kind of, well, yes, but she's mad because she thinks that you like me more than you like her, and that that's not fair because she liked you first. But I saw you first, and I pointed you out to her, and she acts like I did absolutely _nothing useful._" I direct my last few words at her. She's just looking at me, probably shocked that I was paying attention to the whole argument. And she better be realizing that Oliver is SO mine.

Okay, that was kind of rude, but what am I supposed to do? I'm mad at her, and I can't control my thoughts. I can control my actions and my words, but that's it.

"Katie?" George seems to be clouded over by something.

"What?" She looks up at him. Oh, crap. I just realized something. They _had_ to have been together last night, because I remember how they walked in at the same time. And they were holding hands. And now I've gone and explained their way to a whacked up end of their relationship. Oops. Eh, she deserves it.

"Is-is-is that true?"

Oliver seems confused again, Fred also appears to be confused, but I understand the whole thing.

"I...yeah...but I-,"

"I can't talk to you right now, Bell." George turns around and walks back upstairs.

Katie looks at me immediately.

"This is _all_ your fault!"

"Cool." I say. I really don't care right now. I just took part in an explanation that might have just completely ruined George. And I feel like crap about it.

"Cool? Are you kidding me!" Katie screams at me.

"Shut up, Katie. I really don't want to hear your voice right now." I stand up from the couch and start walking up to my dorm. I hear Oliver mutter something about how the team can't practice Quidditch because they're missing a Beater and a Chaser before I get out of hearing range. I pass Angelina on the way up the stairs.

She stops and looks at me, "What's going on? Are we still practicing today?"

"I think everybody but me and George are, yeah." I tell her before going into my dorm and collapsing on my bed.

_This is not my freaking day, and it's only the freaking morning._

* * *

_Okay, then...uh...merp...review...once again I say Merry Christmas! and uh...er...uh...I don't think I'm having any more updates tonight...yeah...review... ;p_


	13. Girls and Their Stupid Drama

**Oliver POV**

Oh. My. God. How dramatic can girls get? So Katie screams at Chandler so loud that I wake up, in a room with a closed door, with a pillow over my head. Then I come downstairs and try to ignore the fact that I'm extremely irritated at Bell for waking me up, and then _everybody_ starts screaming at each other and I don't know what the fudge I'm supposed to do. And then George leaves. Then Chandler leaves. Then Angelina walks downstairs more confused than me.

I hate my life sometimes.

Angelina asked me what just happened, because Bell's too upset to talk for some idiotic reason and Fred seems kind of shocked that his brother was doing something he didn't know about.

"Honestly," I tell her, "I have absolutely no idea. Katie got angry. Chandler got angry. And then some problem came up between Bell and George and he left and then Chandler left. I'm kind of confused right now, too."

"Okay, so are we still practicing, or what?"

"I don't know. I'd like to, but I don't think anyone's in the mood."

Bell grumbles, "You're right about that."

Seeing everyone else around me mad or confused or lost in thought is really irritating. We should all be focused on Quidditch right now, but no. Stupid Bell had to go screaming at Chandler and get everybody ticked off. Even if I did drag them all out to the pitch, it would be completely useless.

"Shut up, Bell." Fred snaps at her before running upstairs, probably to go talk to his brother.

"Since I'm clearly not going to get anything done with any of you today, I'm going back to sleep." I state before irritatedly walking back towards my dorm. I meet Fred and George conversing in the hallway. I'm tempted to angrily stomp past them like a three year old, too, but I decide against it.

"What's wrong with him?" I ask Fred, since George doesn't seem up to talking.

"Uh," Fred seems to be trying to figure out how to explain it, "Well, George here was seeing Bell in secret, kind of like you and Chandler, and he's just going through a lot of emotions right now, you know?"

"Not really."

"Okay, imagine if Quidditch suddenly got up and told you it was in love with some Muggle sport and that it never cared about you at all."

"Oh, God that would be awful." I shudder thinking about it.

"Exactly."

"And the worst part of it is that he's been friends with Chandler for, like, forever, and so he can't really be mad at her. And he still likes Bell, so he can't be mad at her, and so he wants to take out all this crap on himself."

"Do you want me to stick around?"

"No, you can go back to sleep, but thanks for the offer."

"Okay," I say before continuing up to my dorm. Four boys toss around in their beds at the sound of the creaking bed, and then Percy Weasley sits up and moves the curtains on his bed aside.

"What are you doing up before dawn?" He asks suspiciously. He's so annoying sometimes.

"I _was_ going to practice Quidditch, but nobody else on the team seems to have any interest in it today." I grumble, closing the curtains on my bed, cutting off the conversation.

"Whatever you say, Wood." Percy says. I hear him close the curtains of his bed and there is silence from his area of the room.

Sleep isn't really an option anymore. There's no way I'm going back to the common room. I can't really leave yet. I just lay on my bed staring into space. Why, I have no idea. The weather kind of sucks today, so practicing would have just been worse for everybody's moods (except for mine).

I hear Percy's bed squeak as he moves around.

Ugh. Sometimes I wish I never came to this school. It's stupid, how dumb some of the ideas I get are. I don't regret coming to Hogwarts, I just regret letting so many moody teenage girls on the team.

* * *

After all of our classes today, the team is in significantly better moods (except for George). Nobody wants to work together, though, so if possible, we get negative work done.

Katie and Chandler refuse to even pretend that the other is playing, George can't aim a Bludger to save his life right now, and Harry's completely lost in thought about something (probably regarding his visit to the third floor corridor, which Chandler _better_ talk to him about soon).

"POTTER!" I end up screaming after I notice the Snitch passing his face. "PAY ATTENTION!"

"SORRY, WOOD!" He yells back irritatedly. I sigh and look at the Chasers, who seems to be flying around trying only to keep the Quaffle from each other.

"BELL! PASS THE FREAKING QUAFFLE!" I have to scream at various occasions. At this rate, I'm going to lose my voice in the next twenty minutes. "BELL! CHANDLER IS A MEMBER OF THIS TEAM! IF YOU'RE NOT OKAY WITH THAT, SUCK IT UP AND ACT LIKE IT!"

"OLIVER, SHUT UP!" Chandler screams. "YOU'RE NOT HELPING AT ALL!"

Wow. That didn't hurt at all (note the sarcasm).

"WEASLEYS! I KNOW YOU AREN'T UP TO THIS, BUT I DON'T WANT TO SEND ANYBODY TO THE HOSPITAL WING TONIGHT!" I yell after a Bludger narrowly misses Harry's head. "BELL! WHAT DID I SAY?!" Merlin, these people don't know how to handle problems.

After about an hour of this, my throat hurts too much to keep yelling, and all of the players are angry with each other, so I just decide to let everybody go back to the common room.

"Bell, I want to talk to you." I say before Bell sneaks back into the castle.

"What?" She sighs.

"You aren't even trying to play are you?"

"Not really. But why does that matter to you?"

"Because I'm the captain of your Quidditch team, and you need to respect that."

"It's kind of hard to respect someone who plays favourites and puts me on the bottom of the list."

"I don't play favourites."

"Yes, you do. Chandler's your favourite. Everybody knows it."

"Okay, so maybe I have a favourite, but that's just because she works hard."

"She does not!" Bell explodes in anger, "_You_ work hard. _I _work hard. _Chandler _freaking _Flint_ does _not_ work hard. How thick is your skull?! She didn't practice this morning, for crying out loud!'

"I didn't practice this morning either."

"That's different."

"How?"

"I'm done with this conversation." She says before storming off. Okay, then. Chandler walks onto the pitch from behind the stands.

"How much of that did you hear?" I ask curiously.

"Most of it. When did I become your favorite?"

"When you learned how to fly properly." I admit. I was kind of tempted to tell her that I love her, but I don't think now is a good time for that.

"Really?" She seems surprised.

"Yeah, you're a natural. Well, after you got over the fact that your feet weren't on the ground."

Chandler laughs and I put my arm around her shoulder and we start walking back toward the castle.

"So, has Katie always been this much of a drama queen?" I ask after a few feet of silence.

"Yeah. She made us come up with a rulebook about guys in first year. That's how she ended up dating what's-his-face from Ravenclaw for a few weeks instead of Arianna. Arianna was, like, in _love_ with him. Then Katie came along and she was all like, 'Oh, but I saw him first, so he's mine', and then whenever _I_ use that, she doesn't think it counts."

I can't help but laugh a bit at her rant. She's adorable when she rants, yeah, that's one of the reasons why I love her.

"So, do you still have this rulebook sitting around somewhere?" I ask her, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.

"Yeah," she says, returning by kissing me on the lips. "I think it's under her bed, but I'm not sure. I haven't seen it since the middle of second year. Why? Do you wanna see it?"

"I suppose so."

"I'll see if I can get it for you later." She says as I take my arm off her shoulder because we're entering the castle.

"I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Yeah," she says before running around a corner.

I don't know why, but I mutter, "I love you," to the muddy footprints she made on the floor. Then I realize that there's mud on the floor, and that Filch is going to murder me if he finds me standing here, so I turn around and start walking aimlessly around until I feel like I can go back to the common room and not seem suspiciously connected to Chandler.

* * *

_Heyzos...another chapter that you should give me a Christmas present review for...so yeah...go ahead...review...bye-bye ;p_


	14. Glares Freinds and Love

**Chandler POV**

Back in the common room, Katie is obviously having trouble with her emotions, because she looks absolutely distressed. Too bad for her. I'm sitting next to Oliver, there isn't much of a secret between us anymore about our relationship, pretty much the entire Gryffindor house wanted explanations about the screaming, and Katie angrily gave one version, and Angelina confusedly gave another. People keep looking at us, and I can't say I'm comfortable with it.

George disappeared to his dormitory as soon as he got back to the common room, and I'm guessing Fred went with him. Without the Weasley twins, the common room is kind of dull and dreary. Oliver's arm is around my shoulders, which I would really like if crowds of girls would stop looking at me with resentment. He seems to be completely okay with the idea of other people knowing about us. Almost the entire population of Gryffindor girls are gossiping about us, which ticks me off. I'm slightly afraid that this is going to be all over the castle tomorrow, and I'm not really looking forward to Marcus' reaction.

"Are you okay?" Oliver asks for about the fiftieth time in thirty minutes after I space out...for the fiftieth time in thirty minutes.

"Yeah," I sit up and look back to the parchment underneath my elbow. "Stupid Potions."

"Are you confused or something?"

"Confused? I'm only confused about you and Quidditch."

"Why are you confused about me?" He seems like that idea is completely absurd.

"Because you're a confusing person. One second you're talking about Harry Potter and the next you're talking about how high a broom can fly with snow reflecting the sun and the clouds at a certain altitude."

"Because it's important. If you don't know how high you can fly, you might fly too high and not even realize it. It's always a good idea to know your limits."

"Whatever you say, Oliver." I return to my Potions homework, trying to ignore five glares coming from one of the couches. A few minutes later, I notice half of the girls in the common room glaring at me.

I try to ignore it, but I can't. Eventually, I just return the glare and collect my stuff before going up to my dorm. I toss it to the side and fall on my bed, trying to fall asleep.

After a few minutes, Katie comes in and sits next to me.

"I know you're not asleep." She says. I ignore her. "I'm sorry."

I sit up and turn to look at her, "You should be." I say coldly.

"I really am sorry. I don't know what got into me. I just wanted to know what was going on with you and Wood."

"I get it." I say, not changing my tone. "But I'm still mad at you."

"I would be, too. And-,"

My anger completely drops, and I joke, "If you say you're sorry one more time I'll rip your head off."

"Can I take that to mean that I'm forgiven?" She asks, bewildered by my sudden friendlier tone.

"Yeah, but don't push it."

"Okay."

"So..." I start, "what's going on with you and George?"

"Oh, that? Uh, well, we were sort of in a relationship kind of like you and Wood, and he didn't take it too well finding out that I've had a crush on his best friends' boyfriend since first year."

"I can understand that."

"And now I feel awful about it."

"You should," I say, still keeping a sympathetic tone, "you should also go talk to him."

"But he went up to his dormitory."

"I've never seen any of the seventh year girls have any trouble getting up there."

"What are the seventh year girls doing in the boys' dormitories? Wait, don't tell me. I don't think I want to know."

We decide that Katie should go talk to George, but that we should wait a while, until we can go up unnoticed. We both go back to the common room, passing most of the girls in the house on our way down, which leaves the common room almost empty.

Oliver is sitting exactly where he was when I left earlier, and he looks up from _Flying With the Cannons_ after I sit down.

"Hey," he says, "what took you so long?"

"Just...resolving some issues," I say, looking at Katie.

"I don't think I'm going to ask about that." Oliver puts the book away and looks me straight in the eyes. I hate it when he does that, because I can't ever think straight when he's staring at me. "Is something bothering you?"

"No," I say, trying not to sound like I'm lying. Ugh! It's so hard to lie when he's looking at me like that! I hate it, but I kind of love it at the same time.

"Are you sure? Because that sounded like a lie to me."

"Well, I'm not entirely comfortable with half the girls in the house glaring at me all night."

"Anything else?" He moves a strand of my hair to behind my ear.

"Marcus, but he's always bothering me."

"Okay, what else?"

"That's it," I lie. I really wish I could break his captivating stare. I feel like he's driving down into my soul with his eyes.

"No it's not."

"Why do you have to be such a good lie detector?"

"Because I'm amazing like that." He explains, smiling, not moving his eyes from mine. "So what is it that's really bothering you?"

"Uh..."

"Is it because people know about us?"

"Well, partially," I say, Oliver looks happy he was right about something, then he realizes what he was right about.

"Why?"

"I don't know, I just feel like people are gonna treat us differently. I mean, I'm already hated by half of our house. Imagine what's gonna happen tomorrow with the entire school." I shudder.

"Don't worry, nothing's gonna happen to you."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not going to let anything happen to you, that's why." He pulls me into a kiss, much more passionate than usual.

After he pulls away, I ask, "Is something bothering you?"

"No," he lies. Wow, it's really easy to tell lies.

"What is it?"

"There's nothing wrong, Chandler."

"Then what's bothering you?"

"Just, I don't know, Bell, and George, and Potter, and lessons, and-,"

"So you're pretty much worried about everything?"

"Precisely."

"So what's the biggest thing you're worried about?"

"You." He says, taking me into one of those irritatingly addicting stares again.

"Why me?" I try not to blink, because his eyes are just so mesmerizing.

"Because I love you."

I'm not sure I heard him right. "You what?"

"I love you," he says, still captivating me with his eyes. I try to think of something to say back to him, my brain is currently in a jumble.

"I-I-I love you, too." I stutter, not entirely aware of my words. It's true, though. I've never really thought about it, because I never thought that he could love me, since Quidditch is so important to him. I'm suddenly snapped back to the real world when Katie taps on my shoulder.

"Sorry for interrupting your little love fest, but remember what we were gonna do?"

"Oh, yeah," I say, trying to get my brain back to normal. It's not working, but I did manage to get Oliver's gaze out of my head, so I can kind of think straight.

"Are you okay?" Katie asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I say, "Hang on, Katie. Why can't we just send Oliver to apologize for you? Then we won't get in trouble."

"I thought you said seventh years had no problems getting up there."

"Well, yeah, but they know what they're doing."

"Fine," she gives in, knowing that it's safer if we do things this way.

"Oliver? Can you do something for me?"

"Depends on what it is," he says, looking from me to Katie suspiciously. He doesn't seem angry about the events of the day either. I'm currently high off the color in Oliver's eyes and the grassy smell on his clothes.

"I need you to apologize to George for me." Katie says.

"Why can't you do it in the morning?"

"Well, he's not really eager to talk to me, you know, and if he hears it from you, well, I don't know...he trusts you." She explains.

"If he's still awake," Oliver says, standing up. He kisses me on the forehead and whispers, "I love you," in my ear. I smile, and I can feel heat rushing to my cheeks as he disappears up the stairs.

"What was that about?" Katie asks curiously.

"Nothing." I say, still grinning. I turn and Katie and I go upstairs. She still shows her curiosity as I fall asleep, happily ending an extremely long day.

* * *

_Weird and crappy, I know. But I've been updating fast lately, and I want to keep it up...and I thought this was kind of adorable in a really stupid and cliche way. Oh, well...hope you liked it...I'll write more for y'all tomorrow... ;p_


	15. Talks With Marcus Talks With Mia

**Chandler POV**

If it's possible to destroy my mood, I can guarantee Marcus will find out how. I heard that as soon as the rumors spread to Slytherin about me and Katie screaming about Oliver, Marcus went crazier than usual.

After Quidditch practice in the morning, me, Oliver, and the twins are walking back to the common room, slightly behind the rest of the team.

"Are you two sure you're comfortable with all of this?" Fred asks at one point.

"I don't really care," I answer, shrugging. Oliver puts his arm around me and pulls me closer to him, kissing the top of my head.

"Are you sure? Because I heard that a few Ravenclaws have it out for you." George says.

"I think I can deal with a few Ravenclaws." I say.

"If you're positive. If you ever need any help, you know where to find us."

"I also know where to find my wacko of a half-brother."

"I thought you hated him," Oliver says in mock confusion.

"I do, but he's extremely helpful sometimes." I rest my head on Oliver's shoulder.

We reach the portrait hole, and then go back up to our respective dorms.

"So are you two done fighting?" Arianna asks after Katie and I enter the room.

"Yeah," Katie answers. I nod before going into the bathroom to shower and change my robes.

When I come back out, fixing my tie, I see Katie lying on her bed staring at the door to our room.

"So it looked like you and George made up." I say.

"Yeah, he's still upset, but I think he's gonna get over it in a few days."

"He seemed perfectly happy to me."

"I hope so." Katie swings her legs over the side of her bed and stands up. Arianna comes back in the room, I'm assuming she went to go get ready somewhere else. "I just feel so bad about it, you know? 'Cause I really like him, but I-,"

"Don't say anything you're gonna regret." I warn her.

Arianna looks at both of us, confused. "What are you two talking about?" She asks.

"George." Katie answers before she makes her way to the door and walks out.

"Is she okay?" Arianna asks me, looking slightly concerned.

"She's fine, she just feels guilty I think."

"Makes sense." Arianna shrugs, and we decide to go down to the common room.

* * *

On my way to the common room after classes with Oliver, we pass the Slytherin team on their way to Quidditch practice. Marcus sees us, and then stops. He instructs his bird-brained team to go out to the pitch without him before coming over to us.

"What are you two doing?" He asks, looking at our hands, which just happen to be laced together.

"Going back to the common room. Why aren't you with those ostrich brains?" I retort.

"Because I'm checking in on my little sister."

"Well, I'm fine. Go be an idiot."

Marcus looks at Oliver, then back to me, and then he sighs, "Chandler, can I talk to you?"

"Go ahead."

"I mean, like, alone." He says, glaring at Oliver.

"Whatever you wanna say, you can say it in front of him, he's gonna find out anyway."

"Please."

"Fine," I let go of Oliver's hand, "I'll see you later." I turn my attention back to my brother, "What?"

"I heard that you're dating Wood, is that true?"

"Yeah, why does it matter to you?"

He shrugs, "Dad's not gonna like this."

"Oliver's a pure-blood, and he's smart, and he can fly."

"But he's a-,"

"A Gryffindor?" I interrupt, getting irritated. "I'm a Gryffindor, and Dad doesn't have a problem with that, does he?"

"No, but you're his daughter."

"Well, Oliver's his daughter's boyfriend. So he can suck it up and deal with it."

"I'm just saying...Dad's really not gonna like it."

"I know, and I don't care. Don't you have to be somewhere?" I try to end the conversation, because I'm slightly afraid my blood's about to boil.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just be careful."

"I got it. And I'm not gonna get myself killed, don't worry." I say before turning and walking back to the common room.

Oliver's leaning against a stone column around the corner.

"So your dad has a problem with Gryffindors?"

"Yeah. So does Marcus. Slytherin practically runs in their blood."

"Why isn't it in yours?"

"Because I'm a fourth Muggle. And you know how they are about Muggles."

"Yeah, I guess so." Oliver wraps his arm around my shoulder and kisses me on the cheek.

"So did you really listen to that entire conversation?"

"Yes. And if possible, I dislike your brother even more."

"_Half-_brother." I correct him.

"Close enough." He laughs quietly. "Fancy a walk around the lake?"

"Maybe later, I have a 12 inch paper due in Potions tomorrow."

"When was that assigned?"

"Two days ago." I say sheepishly.

"And when did you start?"

"I haven't yet."

Oliver pulls me closer to him and shakes his head.

"You're mad." He laughs quietly, making me smile.

"And what does that make you?"

"That makes me in love with a mad girl," he says. That word literally sends heat down my spine.

"I love you, too, Oliver."

We reach the Fat Lady's portrait in a few minutes.

"So it's true, then?" She asks us after I say the password. "A few girls came by talking about you two. Oh, right, sorry." She swings forward and lets us climb through.

In the common room, Katie and George are sitting together in a corner talking about something. They both look completely comfortable with each other, so I assume that they've gotten over their argument. I sit down an over-sized chair and start working on my essay. Oliver sits on the couch next to my chair and starts doing his own homework.

About an hour and a half later, I finish writing about the different uses of phoenix feathers. Looking over the parchment, I decide it's satisfactory for Snape and put it away.

"You done?" Oliver asks.

"Yeah," I sigh.

"Can I see it?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"'Cause it sucks."

"Then why are you turning it in?"

"'Cause I don't wanna work anymore, and it's okay."

"Really?"

"No, but I'm not doing it over again."

"When you fail, don't come crying to me." He says sarcastically.

"_If_ I fail, I'm not gonna be crying. And _if_ I am, I'm gonna come to you and you know it."

"Yeah, I know." Oliver smiles at me, sending a warm tingle through me. "So when were you planning to talk to Potter about being on the third floor?"

"My God, Oliver. I thought we established that I wasn't."

"Oh, but you are."

"I don't think so."

"Please?"

"No, and don't ask again, because my answers not gonna change."

"Fine," Oliver gives up. A fifth year girl I've never met comes over and sits next to Oliver on the couch.

"Hey, Wood." She says, twirling some of her strawberry blonde hair.

"Hi, Mia." Oliver says, scooting away from her slightly.

"Whatcha doin'?" Mia asks, scooting closer to him. I hate her, and I've never even met her.

"I'm doing my homework."

"Really?" Mia says, flipping some of her long (and I can guarantee fake) hair over her shoulder. "I need some help with History of Magic." She says flirtatiously. A wave of jealousy and anger passes through me, though I don't know why.

"Weren't you paying attention?"

"Sort of." She says sheepishly. She suddenly notices me. "Oh, hi!" She says, flashing me with a perfect smile, "Oliver, who's your friend?"

"Chandler Flint." Oliver says, looking like he's anticipating something bad at the mention of my name.

Mia's smile slowly fades, "Oh." She puts her smile back on, "I'm Mia Hartlend." She extends her hand for me to shake, which I do out of respect. If it were up to me, I would punch her in the face and ruin that pretty, perfect little nose of hers and maybe knock out a few of her perfect, straight teeth. I'm too nice for that, though. And I don't need to get in trouble and have people hate me any more than they already do.

Mia looks at me, slightly disgusted, before putting her perfect, happy, irritating perfection back up. I wonder how she looked when she was born, but once again, I'm too nice to ask.

Oliver's giving me a look that pretty much says, 'Be careful, she hates you already.' I nod at him, telling him that I understand.

"So," Mia starts, trying to hide her loathing of me, "you're in third year, right?"

I nod.

"And you're from America, right?"

I nod again.

"And you're Marcus Flint's little sister right?"

Oliver corrects her, "Half-sister."

"Oh, sorry." She says fakely. "Is it true that his mom's a troll?"

"No, his mom's half troll."

"Have you ever met her? Because I've heard rumors about her, she sounds awful."

I take extreme offense to that, because while she may not be the prettiest woman in the world, she's really nice. "Yeah, I've met her," I say after I calm myself down, "and she's nice."

"But-but-but she's a troll."

I take a deep breath, "She's half troll."

"What's the difference?"

Oliver looks at me, gauging my reaction. I grip the side of the chair so hard my knuckles turn whiter than Mia's teeth, but she doesn't notice.

"Think about it this way," I say, trying to avoid gritting my teeth together, "If a person is a Muggle," I notice Mia shudders at the word, "then they have a wizard child, then the kid would only be half Muggle. If that kid had a child when they grew up, then the kid would be a fourth Muggle."

"I'd rather be a troll than a Muggle," Mia mutters to herself. I really hope I misheard her, but I can almost guarantee I didn't.

"My mom's half Muggle." I say, almost to myself.

"Oh, really?" Mia asks with false interest.

"Yeah," I nod, avoiding the words _And she's prettier than you._

"Cool." Mia says, looking around the common room for a way out of our conversation, she seems to suddenly remember that she's much closer to Oliver than I'm comfortable with. "So can you help me with History of Magic?" She asks him, completely forgetting that I'm here.

"No," Oliver shakes his head.

"Why not?" Mia pouts, in an irritating way.

"Because there are things I'd rather be doing."

"Like what?" She asks, appearing hurt. She makes it sound like spending a night trying to get something into her thick brain is the best way to spend a night. Ever.

"Like thinking about Quidditch, or talking to Chandler, who is, in case I need to remind you, my _girlfriend._"

"Whatever," she turns, flicks her hair over her shoulder angrily, glares at me, and then goes to talk to some dirty blond sixth year boy.

"Is she always like that?" I ask after I'm sure she's not listening to me.

"Yeah," Oliver nods, "except for in first year. She was actually kind of nice in first year. And she had a different nose back then." Oliver shrugs, "But now she's like that, so I try to have as little to do with her as possible."

"And...?" I prompt further explanation for her idiocy.

"Well, it doesn't usually work. And she hates you. She's hated you since your first year. I don't know why, though."

"Maybe because I have real hair," I mutter to myself. Oliver hears me, and smirks.

"Yeah, that might have something to do with it."

I look over to Mia, who is sitting extremely close to the dirty blond boy, and they both seem completely comfortable with the position.

"Did I hear her say something about preferring trolls to Muggles?"

"Oh, yeah, she hates Muggles. Over summer before third year, she was at some Muggle place, and she apparently saw this Muggle girl who was prettier than her, and she went completely haywire. At least, that's what I've heard."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah," he answers. I look over to Mia again. She's twirling her fake hair and batting her fake eyelashes, and the sixth year is clearly having trouble keeping his priorities straight.

"Is she part veela?"

"I don't think so. She's never attacked me."

"Maybe she just doesn't want anybody to see her for the ugly creature she is."

"That would make sense."

"Why would she hate me? What trouble to I give her?"

"Well, you are dating me," Oliver suggests.

"Yeah, but I wasn't dating you in my first year."

"True. I don't know. You could always ask her. Maybe catch her in one of her stupid ditsy moments."

"Isn't that every moment?"

Oliver laughs. "Yeah, I suppose so." I move over to the couch and sit next to Oliver. I notice Mia looks over to us as Oliver's arm goes around me and I tuck my feet behind me and lean my head against his chest. She practically radiates hatred and jealousy. I smile at her, and she angrily flips her hair and turns back to flirting with the sixth year. "You know," Oliver starts, after I've infuriated Mia, "you can be really mean sometimes."

"I know," I say.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side, okay?"

"No promises." I smile to myself, letting Oliver's heartbeat calm me down. I hate Mia. Mia hates me. And we're all just going to have to deal with that.

* * *

_So...I introduced a new character here...yeah...review...tell me what you thought...thank you! _

_P.S. Don't forget to review.  
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_P.P.S. Please don't click out of this page until you post something from that little box down there...merp...  
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	16. True Love is Like a Golden Snitch

**Oliver POV**

Chandler met Mia. The only thing that can come out of this is trouble. I'd completely forgotten about Mia, since she hadn't really tried anything Mia-like since the middle of fourth year. I had really hoped she was done with it, that she had gotten over me and moved on. I can't always get what I want. I just don't understand why she's so obsessed with me. And she _is_ obsessed with me, she has been since the beginning of third year, after she started caring about how she looked and what people thought of her. I had _really_ hoped she was done with me. She seemed to have moved on, she started dating a Ravenclaw kid a year ahead of us after I rejected her for the thirtieth time. She didn't talk to me as much, I didn't notice her giving me googly eyes. I had completely forgotten about her existence. But now she's back, and I don't think I have enough tolerance to go through this crap again.

"Oliver?" Chandler's voice breaks my thoughts, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I look around, trying to remember where I am. Then I remember that I'm walking around the lake with Chandler, and that Mia shouldn't even be crossing my mind right now.

"What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing important." I say, removing my hand from hers and putting my arm around her shoulder so I can pull her closer. "I love you."

"I love you, too. But really, what were you thinking about?"

"I told you, it's not important."

"Homework?" She asks. I shake my head. She tries again, "Quidditch?"

"That's important!"

"Sorry," she says, trying not to laugh at my outburst, "me?"

"You're important."

"Am I more important than Quidditch?"

Her question takes me off guard. Two months ago, my answer would have been no, because Quidditch is my life. But now, I don't even know how I lived without Chandler.

"Yes." I say finally, "You're more important than everything."

"Oh my God, really?"

"Yeah, what were you expecting?"

"I don't know," she shrugs. "Were you thinking about Mia?"

I nod, and anger and jealousy cross her face.

"Like I said, it's nothing important." I sit down on the grass, and she sits with me, seeming kind of conflicted.

"Why?"

"Because she scares me," I admit.

"Why does she scare you?"

"Because I don't get it. I don't understand how a person can take rejection as many times as she has and not back off." I look at her, hoping her female intellect will offer an explanation.

"She's just confused," Chandler says, obviously not comfortable.

"She doesn't seem very confused."

"Mia is the kind of person who wants to seem stronger than she is. She doesn't want people to know what's going on in her head. She wants to be mysterious, and she wants somebody to care. I'm just guessing that she didn't have the best childhood." Chandler says, seeming to put her hatred for Mia aside, almost as if she's understanding Mia for the first time.

"Have I ever told you that I love you?" I blurt randomly.

"Yeah, why?"

"I don't know, I just want you to know. I don't understand love, and I kind of wish I did."

"Why?"

"Because it's confusing."

"Not really," Chandler kind of laughs, "It's a fairly simple concept."

"Explain it then." I say, testing her.

"Well, I can't just explain it. I need some way to get it into your head."

"Use Quidditch." I say, hoping that's possible.

"Okay," Chandler thinks for a moment, "so let's pretend that the Quaffle doesn't exist."

"But the Quaffle does exist," I say, confused.

"Well, if you want to understand this, then it doesn't."

"Okay, okay, continue."

"So there aren't any Quaffles, and everybody's a Seeker and a Beater at the same time."

"How is that possible?" That's not possible. I've read billions of books about Quidditch, and there is no way whatsoever that a person can be a Seeker and a Beater at the same time. It's physically impossible.

Chandler looks at me, seeming extremely confused at my lack of understanding.

"Anyway, everybody's a Seeker and everybody's a Beater. People are Seekers for themselves, and people are Beaters for their friends or little siblings or whatever. Okay, so then there are some people who are Bludgers, and-,"

"How can a person be a Bludger? That doesn't make any-oh, sorry."

"It's okay," Chandler says, laughing at my confusion, "So the Bludger people want to hurt you, and make you feel like crap. And then, there's a Golden Snitch for everyone. They're, like, the people you're meant to be with, you know, your true love."

"So what I'm hearing is that true love is like a Golden Snitch?" I ask, still not totally grasping the full concept. I kind of understand it, but I don't get the whole Bludger and Snitch thing.

"Exactly!"

"But aren't these Bludger people or whatever, aren't they looking for their Snitch, too?"

"Yeah," Chandler says excitedly as the concept starts to wrap around my head.

"I think I get it." I say, looking at her.

"Good," she says, lightly pressing her lips against mine,"I love you," she whispers in my ear.

"I love you, too," I whisper to her, and then I kiss her cheek.

After about an hour of watching the giant squid in the lake, Chandler's breathing starts to slow, and I know she fell asleep. That's just like her. I smile at her. She's gorgeous when she's sleeping. And I don't mean, like, veela gorgeous, I mean that she's so peaceful that she looks amazing. She looks like there isn't anything in the world that can hurt her. I kiss the top of her head, which is leaned against my shoulder. She moves around a bit, probably trying to find a more comfortable position.

I never really understood that story my mother used to tell me, about Sleeping Beauty or whatever her name was. I used to think that it was impossible for someone to look good when they were sleeping (except for myself), but now I get it. Honestly, I've never seen anybody look as beautiful as Chandler looks right now. I start to stroke her hair, and eventually I stop, because I'm afraid I'll wake her.

"Whatcha doin'?" Mia's voice rings out from behind me.

I turn my head, "Shut up," I say, barely above a whisper.

"Why?" Mia asks, her voice getting louder.

"Chandler's sleeping."

"Good for her," Mia says sarcastically. I've never really looked at her, and now I realize that Chandler's probably right, that she didn't have the best childhood she could have.

"Mia," I start, "what was your life like before Hogwarts?"

Mia tenses up, and I know that I've hit a bad topic.

"Um, I don't like to talk about it." She says, hiding her emotions again, "I like to live in the moment, you know?"

I notice that her voice is quieter. "Fair enough, but still, what was it like?"

Mia looks at Chandler's sleeping body, "Why do you wanna know?"

"I'm just curious."

"When did you start caring about me?" She asks, seemingly surprised. I start to think that maybe Chandler's right, that Mia's just misunderstood. I shrug in response to her question. I wouldn't say that I care about her, I would say that I want to know why I should.

"So are you going to tell me?"

Mia takes another look at Chandler, she looks like she would give anything to be in Chandler's current position.

She shrugs, "Sure." Mia takes a deep breath, "My dad's a Muggle, and when I was little, my parents were always fighting. He acted like I ruined his life by being born. Once, he hit me really hard, because I started working magic, you know. And then my mum came in and started screaming at him." Tears start to appear in Mia's eyes, "And then he hit her, harder than he hit me. She kicked him out that night. Gave him five minutes to get the things he wanted and then told him to get out of her life. I've never seen him since then. My mum...she blamed me for it at first. She got over it eventually, but she's always been kind of distant since then." Chandler moves around again, and Mia seems to suddenly realize that she's there, "I've hated Muggles after that, just because my dad's one of them. In second year, when I saw that Muggle girl, I don't know, I just kind of screamed inside. She looked like the pictures of my dad's mum when she was our age, and I just, I wanted to be better than them. And," Mia wipes her tears away and kind of laughs, "now I've become an awful person because of it." She looks into my eyes, "I've never told anybody about this. And if you tell anybody, even her," she moves her gaze to Chandler before looking back at me, "I. Will. Destroy. You."

I nod, surprised by how easily she put her wall back up.

"So I'll see you later, yeah?" She asks, looking completely like her horribly annoying self again.

"Yeah," I say. She flicks her hair over her shoulder and starts walking back to the castle. A girl with a life like that really needs somebody to care about her. And it's not going to be me. She's too...unpredictable, I guess. I like a little bit of surprise every now and then, but Mia's mean most of the time, and then she'll let her guard down for five minutes. Then she'll threaten you, and just disappear. I can't deal with that. And she's too fake for me. Fake nose, fake hair, fake eyelashes, I wonder what she would look like now if she weren't so fake.

Chandler's eyelids flutter open, kind of like a butterfly's wings.

"Hey, Oliver." She says, still appearing half asleep. I kiss her impulsively, just to remind myself that I love her, and that I need her. She seems to be shocked awake, and puts one of her hands around my neck and pulls me closer to her.

I love her. I need her. Hearing about Mia's past, I'm reminded of how much I need Chandler. .

And I can't help wondering if Chandler Flint might be my Golden Snitch.

* * *

_Hey! Two chapters in one night! I think that deserves a review (even though I do this all the time, you should still review). So yeah...y'all have a good night! I'll probably have more for tomorrow!_


	17. Sweet Jealousy

**Mia POV**

I've never told anybody about my former life, I never really wanted to, either. I don't know why I told Oliver about it. He's, like, the only person I can actually talk to. And he doesn't seem to want to listen. I don't understand why, and I don't care. I have a problem with his little _friend._ What was her name again? Don't know. Don't care. What does she have that I don't? Well, I guess she has him.

But she's freaking _American!_ And she's Flint's sister. _Marcus Flint!_ And, she's, like, the _opposite_ of perfect. I'm perfect. I spent two and a half years making sure of that. When that little American idiot walked in the Great Hall three years ago...UGH! She ruined my life. She ruined _EVERYTHING!_ I never thought that I had any competition from her at all, but now she's just as much of a problem as I'd hoped she wouldn't be.

The worst part of the whole thing is that he loves her. And I don't mean, like, temporary oh my God I'm in love, kind of thing. I mean, like, he _loves_ her. Like, holy crap I wanna spend the rest of forever thinking about her, kind of thing. He didn't tell me, I didn't need him to. I can tell by the way he looks at her. Honestly, I would give anything for him to look at me like that. But he never will, and I'm just going to have to learn to not give a-

"Mia," a familiar voice rips me from my thoughts. "Are you okay?"

I look at the dirty blond sixth year, I can't ever remember names, "What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Because you were staring at Wood and Flint like you wanted to kill them."

I take a deep breath and run my hand through my hair, "I'm fine."

"Are you hungry? Because you haven't eaten anything."

"Um, I...no, I'm not hungry. I'll see you back in the common room later, yeah?" I stand.

"Okay, if you're sure. I'll see to you later."

I take one last glance at Oliver and his little friend before walking out of the Great Hall and turning to leave the castle.

"Where are you going?" A familiar voice drones behind me.

"For a walk," I snap at Filch before slipping through the gigantic door and into the rain. Mrs. Norris is waltzing around the front door. She arches her back and rubs herself on my ankle. "Screw you, Norris," I mutter, gently kicking her off my Jimmy Choos. She hisses at me and pulls herself through the small gap left between the doors.

My hair starts to dripping, and I can feel my heels starting to sink into the mud. I didn't have much of a plan after I got out here, so I decide to turn around and go back in the castle before my hair gets stringy, because ask my parents_, _that look does _not_ suit me.

Oliver and his _stupid_ girlfriend are walking upstairs hand in hand, laughing about something stupid. I take a deep breath and swallow my hatred for the stupid brunette next to Oliver and walk up behind them.

"Watcha doin'?" I ask, trying as hard as I can to drive Flint's sister crazy.

She mutters something I can't hear, then turns to me, "What do you want, Mia?"

I shrug and start twirling my hair around my finger, "I don't know." I look at Oliver flirtatiously. God, it's fun to annoy that pretty little girl.

"Okay," she says slowly, she mutters something to herself, and I swear it includes an insult I decide to ignore. Oliver unconsciously pulls her closer to him, and I can feel heat rushing to my cheeks. Not from embarrassment, but from anger. Why doesn't he ever do that to me? He's never intentionally that close to me, that might have something to do with it. "So what are you here for?"

"I go to school here, what about you?"

"I learn here." She retorts irritably.

Well, _that_ hurt.

"Chandler, calm down." Oliver says quietly, he whispers something else to her that I can't hear. So that's her name. Chandler. Really? Seriously? Chandler? Why not something nice, like, oh I don't know, Mia? Mia's a good name, but Chandler? _Really? _I'll probably forget it in a week, anyway. I'll live. It's just some useless name, anyway. "Mia, do you need something?" Oliver asks after a few moments.

"No," I bat my eyelashes. "I was just on my way back to the common room." I keep my voice as airy as possible.

"Where were you walking from?" Chandler, I hate that name so much, says, observing my hair, and my muddy shoes.

"I was just getting a better look at the rain."

"Was the ceiling in the Great Hall not enough?"

"I don't know..." I keep my voice lofty and my eyes on Oliver. I can almost feel Chandler's glare. She mutters something that I intentionally don't listen to. Oliver seems currently conflicted, and I'm beginning to regret telling him about my life. I really don't care about it anymore, I just like to pretend I do sometimes, because it gets attention when a perfectly perfect girl suddenly has a "mental breakdown". If I were to start crying right now, I wonder what Oliver would do. I wonder what Chandler would do, too. Wow, that's tempting. I'm sure that somewhere underneath all of that...her...is a good person like me. "Well," I say, "I'll see you later," I flip my hair over my shoulder and make sure that it seems like I'm talking only to Oliver.

"Bye," Chandler says as I walk up the stairs away from them. I really hope I'm mistaken, but I swear I heard happiness in her voice. Screw her. And her stupid troll of a brother, and her stupid Gryffindor descendant friend, and those stupid (but kind of funny) redheaded twins she's always involving herself with.

Ugh! I'm getting jealous of her. Me. Getting _jealous_. No, that's not okay. People are supposed to be jealous of me, I'm not supposed to be jealous of other people. That's not fair! Why can't my life be perfect? Why can't my life be like-okay, I'm not going to finish that sentence.

Nope, I don't even remember Chandler's stupid name. Or maybe I do. This is _so_ irritating. Why can't that little brat go back across the pond and stay there? At least I'll get to spend the holidays without her around the corner. Unless she's staying at Hogwarts for Christmas. I _really_ hope she's not. That would totally suck for me, like, it would be the worst holiday ever.

I just hope she doesn't stick around for much longer, because if she does, there is an extremely large chance that I'll go mad.

* * *

_Okay...so this chapter was a bit different. It feels like it took forever...I hope I'm not spoiling you guys with these updates...anyway, hope you liked the different perspective...yeah...merp...uh...review... ;p_


	18. When One Spaces Out in Potions

**Chandler POV**

If Mia sticks around for much longer, I'm going to go crazy. Oliver doesn't even seem surprised by any of this human Barbie crap. He just takes it. I'll admit that I'm kind of jealous of her. I don't know why, but I am. Maybe it's because she's in Oliver's year, or maybe because she's known him longer. I'm not sure, but I really hope it won't last long, because this whole stupid jealousy thing isn't working out for me. It's probably just because she's in Oliver's year and gets to spend more time with him than I do. Maybe it's not even jealousy, maybe it's just anxiety. That's a possibility, right? I'm not a very anxious person, but I could just be stressed and starting to worry about stuff. I don't know anymore.

"Chandler, are you alright?" Arianna whispers. I look at her, realizing that I'm in the dungeons for Potions.

"Yeah," I whisper back, "I'm fine."

"Stop spacing out, you'll get yourself in massive trouble."

"Sorry."

Suddenly I notice Arianna going rigid and a shadow looming over me. I turn to see Snape glaring down at me. _Are you serious?_

"Flint, Gryffindor, what is the meaning of your conversation?"

"I," I start, trying to avoid getting Arianna in trouble, "I spaced out. Arianna was just trying to get me to pay attention. Sorry." I rush my words, wanting this interaction to be over soon.

"Detention. And ten points from Gryffindor House." Snape declares without thought, "and you're lucky Ms. Gryffindor, I'm not going to punish you."

"Tha-," Arianna starts.

"This time." Snape says over her small voice. Arianna nods, and Snape walks back towards the front of the room. "Now that we can all begin _learning_ again," he shoots a glare at me, causing me to shrink into my seat, "If you would all focus on the ingredients on my desk. Flint, what is this?" He looks at me and holds up a small bottle.

"Fluxweed," I almost whimper. If he's going to embarrass me this much, than he shouldn't have to punish me with detention, too.

"And what can Fluxweed be used for when combined with Knotgrass and Leeches?"

"Um...uh...Polyjuice Potion?"

Snape nods, as if my answer was satisfactory. He turns to a Slytherin boy and asks the same questions, only switching the positions of Knotgrass and Fluxweed. The boy answers exactly like I did, but Snape says, "Ten points to Slytherin," as if he's never seen anything more impressive. So it's not impressive when a girl falls a hundred feet and _lives_, but it's awe-inflicting when a third year boy answers a question that he learned the answer to in his first year.

_Real subtle, Snape._

I hate how discreet he thinks he is about his stupid bias against Gryffindor. What does he have against us anyway? I guess there's nothing I can do about it (which is _really_ annoying), so I should just get over it for today.

"Chandler," Arianna whispers urgently. I look at her and mutter an apology for spacing out again. If Snape notices it, he doesn't say anything, just keeps droning on about the uses of Fluxweed. I don't feel like listening anymore, so I just stare at the jar of dragon's blood on Snape's desk until the bell rings.

"Flint, may I have a word?" Snape asks while the rest of my year is disappearing out the door.

"Yes," I say, trying to avoid any sign that I'm not looking forward to this conversation. I make my way up to the front of the room and stare at the floor.

"When would you like to have your detention?" Snape asks. I'm about to answer when he says, "Tonight sounds like a fine idea. After dinner, you can go see Filch and polish trophies." I'm annoyed that he didn't let me speak, and I'm even more annoyed that he's suggesting I skip Quidditch practice. The idea of being in Filch's office scares me, but what am I supposed to do? He takes a deep breath, "So good luck, Flint. You should thank me, I'm being light on your punishment. Only because of your brother, but oh well."

"I can't have detention tonight." I say, surprised by how small my voice seems.

"And why not, Flint?"

"Because," I shudder at the malice in his voice, "I have Qui-Quidditch practice."

"You sound like your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Snape remarks just loud enough for me to hear, "Now why would Quidditch practice be enough reason for me to move your detention to another day?"

I shrug, "Because Marcus is gonna need somebody to practice with over the holidays."

"You make a fine point, and you do need all the practice you can get. But that's not my fault, so you'll serve your detention tonight and there's nothing you can do about it.

Well, _that_ didn't feel good. I try to keep the anger out of my eyes, but even if I fail, I'm still staring at the floor.

"You are dismissed, Flint." Snape says finally, and I turn around and leave. Is it strange that the halls seem a lot more welcoming than usual?

Arianna, Fred, and George are all waiting for me at the entrance of the dungeons.

"What's your punishment?" Fred and George ask me eagerly.

"Uh...detention. I have to polish the trophies in Filch's office."

Fred and George look at each other, "That one's awful, but at least you don't have to reorganize his ingredient's cabinet." They both shudder.

Arianna looks at them strangely before asking, "So when's detention."

"Tonight," I moan, "after dinner."

Fred looks at me, "You don't mean,"

George continues, "during Quidditch practice?"

Fred starts again, "Wood's gonna,"

George finishes, "kill you."

I really want to smack myself right now. "I know," I sigh. "Why can't everything be easy?"

"Because it's not," Arianna starts. She's about to go into one of her lectures about how life's not fair but we all have to get through it, but the twins interrupt her.

"You have magical abilities! Everything _is_ easy!"

"I meant with _people_." I say.

"Oh," Fred looks defeated, "didn't know that."

I laugh at them, then note a group of fifth year Gryffindors passing by.

"Hey, Chandler," Oliver says, "what are you still doing down here? You're all going to be late for whatever you have next."

"Chandler," Fred starts, "had to talk to Snape."

"Why?"

"Because I have detention," I answer.

"Why?"

"Because I don't like to pay attention."

"That's not even the worst of it," George starts. I resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs. "Her detention is during Quidditch practice tonight."

"What?" Oliver seems appalled by the idea of someone serving detention during Quidditch practice. "Snape's gone mad!"

"Didn't he do that a while ago?" I ask, "And keep you voice down Oliver, this place has echos and we don't need Snape hearing you."

"Sorry," he says, lowering his voice, "I'll talk to you later about this."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." I smile at him before turning and running to Transfigurations.

* * *

When Oliver says that he'll talk to me later about something, he really means he'll drag me to the pitch and scold and try to keep from screaming at me about something. I mean, seriously, can't the guy take a break from Quidditch for thirty seconds?

"You're going to start paying attention aren't you?" He asks at one point. I can't say I'm not disappointed he can't handle this better, but what was I expecting?

"Probably not. It's kind of hard, you know. I'm not really known for my attention span."

"You don't seem to have any trouble paying attention when I'm around you."

"Well, that's different."

"How?"

"Because, it just is. I can't explain it, but it is."

"I'm not going to make you skip detention, but you're going to have to have an extra practice because of it."

"That's totally unfair!" I shout, before realizing that it's probably the equivalent of more alone time with Oliver, and I like that idea, "On second thought, when?"

"Um, how about before Hogsmeade on the last day before the holiday?"

I shrug, "That works for me." Wow, time flies fast. I feel like just yesterday I was being forced onto the Quidditch team, and now I'm dating the captain, and Christmas is two weeks away.

"Good. And promise me you won't get any more detentions in between now and then."

"It's, like, a week away. I'm not the twins."

"You're right about that. You're much cuter than the twins."

"Thank you," I say, pulling him closer to me and lightly kissing him. "How would I look with red hair?" I joke.

Oliver smiles and kind of laughs, "I'm not sure."

"I thought you'd say that," I say, kissing him again. "I don't know about you, but I'm hungry, and then I have to go polish some old crap in Filch's office." I intertwine my fingers with Oliver's and we start walking back to the castle. "Want me to get you a souvenir?"

"You're not stealing anything from Filch's office. That would be stupid."

"I don't know, he's got a lot of interesting stuff in there."

"Maybe, but still. _Are_ you turning into one of those twins? Because they're enough, we don't need demon triplets running around causing havoc."

"Hey! I thought we already established that I would look terrible with red hair."

"I didn't say that!" Oliver seems defensive, "I said I wasn't sure."

"You wanna find out?" I raise my wand to my head with my free hand.

"No, no" Oliver says hurriedly.

"What? You don't think I'd look good?" I joke, lowering my wand. Oliver releases my hand and wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. I lean my head into his shoulder, "I love you, Oliver."

"I love you, too, Chandler. Even if you can be uncontrollably peculiar sometimes."

Oliver moves his hand back to mine once we reach the castle. Yay, my least favorite Barbie doll is standing just inside the entrance.

"What are you two doing?" She asks innocently. Her voice sends an angry heat wave through me.

"Walking, you?" I ask, trying to keep my voice level.

She giggles, "I don't know." She starts twirling her hair and batting her fake eyelashes at Oliver. It's strange how tempting it is to rip her throat out when she does that.

"Good for you," I mutter to myself irritably.

She looks at me, as if her bird brain suddenly notices that I'm here. I take a deep breath as she says airily, "Oh, hi."

"Hi to you, too." I grumble.

"I heard you got detention. Is that true?" She tilts her head.

I nod, trying to ignore the anger bubbling inside of me, "But what does me having detention have to do with you?"

"I was just wondering." Her voice stays lofty as her gaze drifts back to Oliver. "I'll see you all at dinner," she practically floats away in high heels. How does a person walk in those things? I've worn them once or twice, but it's like she never takes them off! On the bottom of the six inch heel, the words _Jimmy Choo_ are printed in a nice writing beyond my capability of creating. What's so special about Jimmy Choos? They're just shoes. Oh, well. There are things that are important to her, and there are things that are important to me. We can all just get over it.

After the small clacking of Mia's heels has disappeared, Oliver and I walk towards the Great Hall for dinner. And all I can do is dread what will come after.

* * *

_Hey! It's the author that writes sucky crap again! How are all of you today? So...I haven't updated in a while (by my standards). Sorry about that...I had some trouble with the beginning (and I know it's really cruddy). Anyways, reviews are welcome (I like compliments). The more reviews I have, the sooner I'll update. And that's the truth...so go ahead and type something in the box underneath this message...teehee ;p_


	19. The Annoying and the Irritating

**Oliver POV**

What kind of person gives someone detention during Quidditch practice? That's criminal! And no, this has nothing to do with the fact the the victim of Snape's idiocy is my girlfriend. Quidditch practice is entirely messed up without Chandler. We have to use a reserve Chaser, and they have a completely different way of interpreting my instructions, which throws the rest of the team off. Really, it's just a problem, because one different team member changes the entire team.

"BELL! PASS THE QUAFFLE!" I scream after Bell refuses to listen for the tenth time.

"SHUT UP, OLIVER!" She screams over the wind.

I can imagine Chandler doing the exact opposite of what I tell her to do, just to have an excuse to yell at me. The thought makes me smirk while I deflect a Quaffle. I really hope she wasn't serious about stealing something from Filch. I really don't need an adorable female version of the twins. I don't think I'd be able to handle that.

"WEASLEYS! KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE BLUDGERS!"

"SORRY, WOOD!" They yell simultaneously. It's so hard to tell which is which when they're flying around. It's hard enough when they're standing right in front of me, but now, I'm hopeless.

Half an hour later, I decide that the team has homework (and so do I, but I don't see that as important), so I let them all be done with Quidditch for the day. A few minutes after that, Chandler walks in looking more exhausted than I've ever seen her.

"God, I hate Filch." She says after she sits down on the couch next to me.

"Was it that bad?" I ask, curious and kind of worried about whether or not she'll stay awake long enough to answer.

"It was worse than _that bad_." She leans her head against my shoulder and takes a deep breath. While my shoulder doesn't particularly like being numb from her head, I can't help but love when she does that. I don't know why, but I do.

I change the subject slightly, "So did you get me a souvenir?"

"I thought you didn't want one," she mumbles.

I kiss the top of her head, "When did that ever stop you?"

"Good point," she says, pulling out a small shiny object.

"What's this?" I ask, turning it over in my hands. It's like a very small Quaffle, it's golden, and it has a faded engraving in it.

"Read it," she says tiredly. I sigh and look carefully at the engraving. I can make out the words _Wood, Keeper,_ and _Quidditch_, but not much else.

"I still don't know what it is."

"I don't either, but it has your last name on it, your favorite word, and your Quidditch position, so I assumed you'd like it."

"Well, you were right about that." I tell her, putting the tiny version of a Quaffle in my bag. "Just to get this straight, you stole it from Filch's office, right?"

"Yeah," Chandler says. Wow, she's tired.

"And you were supposed to make it readable again?"

"I don't know, it was in the back of the case thingamabob, and it didn't look like anybody had seen in for a while."

"You should go to sleep, Chandler."

"I'm not tired," her half-asleep voice says, probably instinctively.

"You have to practice Quidditch in the morning, and I don't need you falling asleep a hundred feet in the air."

She groans, "Fine."

I kiss her on the cheek and whisper, "I love you," to her.

She just nods and goes upstairs. She's adorable when she's half asleep. She's also adorable when she's awake, and every other point in time. I pull out the small Quaffle-ish thing and rub some of the dust off it, but my hopes of reading what was once on it are futile.

* * *

"Hey, Oliver," Mia whispers in Transfigurations the next day. How she got into the seat next to me, I have no idea, and I don't really care either. I try to ignore her, and then she starts tapping her ink bottle on the table.

"What?" I whisper back eventually.

"Are you busy during break?"

"Yeah," I lie. It wouldn't be very hard to find something to do.

"No you're not."

"Shut up, Mia." I look up to the front of the room, where McGonagall is explaining something that appears to be completely pointless.

"Oh, come on, Oliver." She pleads for my attention. Mia starts twirling her hair and batting her eyelashes.

That's just irritating. I give up, "What do you want?"

"I wanna talk to you."

"You can talk, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna listen."

"I mean, like, _alone._"

_Well, _that's _never good. _

"I don't think so."

"Whatever. Your loss."

While that makes me curious...I still have no interest in being in a room alone with Mia. If it's that important, why can't she just stop being an idiot and say it? Oh, well. Mia is not my problem.

"Oliver. Mia." Percy Weasley whispers from behind me. I turn slightly to look at him.

"What?" I snap. I'm getting kind of annoyed with these stupid whispered conversations.

"Shut up and pay attention."

"Screw you, Weasley," Mia whispers coldly.

"As a school prefect," Percy starts, appalled that someone would use such a phrase with him, "I have a certain authority over you."

"And as a wizard," I whisper, "I am completely capable of Transfiguring you into a bunny and tossing you into the Forbidden Forest."

"You wouldn't dare do such a thing to a school prefect."

"Shut up about being a stupid freaking prefect!" Mia gets herself back into the conversation. "Nobody cares."

"You should watch your mouth, Mia. I have authority-,"

"And I have a wand and a spell book." I interrupt. He sinks back into his seat.

"You shouldn't threaten a school prefect."

Mia retorts with, "And you shouldn't claim authority over someone who can kick your-,"

"Mia," I interject before she says something she really will regret.

"What? I was talking about you, not me."

She better have been. Seriously, she's one of the weakest people I know.

"_Anyway,_" Percy starts running his stupid, arrogant mouth again, "you two need to stop questioning me and listen before you get us all in trouble."

At this point, I decide to withdraw myself from the interaction with the red-headed idiot before I do something stupid. Mia appears to do the same thing. Percy tries again to get us to listen before he gives up on us.

I feel really bad for the twins. I can't even imagine what kind of crap he tries to get them to listen to.

* * *

_Sorry this chapter took so long...but I should be back to my regular updating now...I think. I don't know. However, if you want a chapter up quickly I suggest that you review...hint hint hint...for all you know it could be my birthday (yeah, it's _not_ my birthday)...but seriously REVIEW! _


	20. The Gossiping Twins

**Chandler POV**

Detention sucks. It's that simple. It sucks. True, it got me extra alone time with Oliver. Still, it was like torture. I don't know how Fred and George do that so often. I seriously almost feel asleep in the middle of the hallway on my way back to the common room. That certainly didn't help my plan to leave Hogwarts the same person as I was when I came. I guess Oliver kind of shattered that idea, with all the early Quidditch practices, and falling in love, but _anyway..._When I came to Hogwarts I had a plan not to change too much. Yeah, I want to become a more skilled witch, but I did _not_ want to fall a hundred feet. I didn't plan on falling in love with Oliver (or anybody, really), but I'm not complaining. I like the airy feeling Oliver gives me. Especially when he's doing stupid, irritatingly adorable things. Like right now, he's gone into another rant about the broken broomstick at the edge of my bed while we're sitting on the cold grass in front of the lake.

"You seriously need to get it fixed, Chandler."

"It got split in half, Oliver. If I get it fixed, it won't work any better than the Shooting Star."

"Well, then get a new one."

"Oliver. I thought we went over this. The only way I'm getting a new one is if you buy it."

He fake pouts, and I smile at him. He tries to compromise, "I'll buy you whatever shiny thing you want if you get yourself a new broom."

"Ooh." I say, "That's tempting. I think I'll take you up on that."

"I'm going to regret this aren't I?" He asks, looking like he doesn't need an answer.

I nod anyway, "Yes, my adorable friend, you are." I inform him, smiling deviously.

Oliver looks at me with a smile on his face, "When did I become adorable?" He jokes.

"Since you got a face...?"

"That implies that I've been adorable since the day you met me."

I shrug, fighting laughter, "Eh."

"Oh, come on, Chandler. You know I'm right."

I shrug again, then I kiss his lips, "Yeah."

"Thought so," Oliver replies. He snakes a hand around my waist and pulls me closer to him before he kisses me back.

My favorite demon twins' voices ring out from behind us, "I think I'm gonna be sick. What about you, Fred?"

"Oh, yeah. Totally." I can almost hear Fred's fake gag. "Seriously. Couples these days."

I kiss Oliver again, and the twins gag again before I hear them running away. I pull away and we both start laughing. I lean my head into Oliver's chest and listen to the breeze floating through the trees.

"Hey, Oliver?" I ask after a few seconds of silence.

"Yeah?"

"You have to buy me _whatever _shiny thing I want, right?"

"Yeah...?" He responds in more of a question. He's probably starting to get worried about whatever plan I have concocted. That's probably a smart idea.

"And you have to buy me something _before_ I buy my new broom, right?"

"Yeah," he sighs, knowing it's pointless to argue with me.

"And you're gonna help me pay for it, right?"

Oliver kisses the top of my head, "Yeah, and I'm forbidding you from using the word 'and' again."

I smile, "_And _you should know by now that telling me not to do something just makes me more likely to."

"I know," he laughs a bit. I tilt my head back so I can look at him.

"I love you."

He smiles and kisses me lightly, "I love you, too, Chandler."

* * *

I'm trying to do my homework and ignore the fact that Mia is sitting uncomfortably close to Oliver. I'm really trying. Like, _really_ trying to ignore it. But I can't.

I look up from my parchment and at Mia, "Whatcha doin'?" I ask her through my gritted teeth, imitating her irritating greeting.

She shrugs and scoots closer to Oliver, causing my blood to heat up, "Nothing, really. Why?" She tilts her head to the side and starts playing with her hair. I give her a death glare.

Shrugging back, attempting to swallow my anger, I tell her, "Never mind." I glare at her again before turning my attention back to Potions homework.

Eventually, Mia gets bored of annoying me and goes to talk to that stupid blond sixth year dude.

"Are you alright?" Oliver asks.

I look up at him, "Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine." I lie, trying to shrug my anger off.

He sees right through it, "No you're not. What's wrong?"

"I need to hit something." I tell him. I glance over at Mia, hoping he gets the hint that by 'something' I mean 'Mia'. He nods.

"I get it." He says, before adding, "And no. You can't hit something right now. Or ever."

"Ugh..." I say, stuffing my finished homework in my bag. "She's just so..." there are so many words I would love to describe her with, but I decide that it would be best if I just say, "She's just irritating."

"Nice censoring." Oliver comments.

I smile at him, "I know."

He smiles, "You know, a 'thank you' would be nice every now and then."

"Hey, either you get kissed, or you get 'thank yous'. You're choice."

"I'm good without the thank you."

I nod, "Thought so."

"Has anyone ever told you you're brilliant?"

That takes me slightly by surprise. The answer would be no, but in my current, smart alack state of mind, I didn't feel like saying that. So I shrug and say, "You just did."

"I did not."

"Fine. But you implied it."

"That is very true." Oliver admits.

Fred and George's harmonious voices (note my sarcasm) chorus from behind me, "Do you mind if we steal Chandler away from you for a moment, Wood?"

Oliver looks at them, "Don't get any ideas."

I stand up and hop over the couch while Fred says, "No promises, Oliver." I laugh at all three of them as I'm led to a vacant table.

"What did you two crazies need?"

"Oh, that?" Fred asks, like he totally forgot about it.

"You didn't have a very good reason, did you?"

"Nope." George says happily. I just shake my head at the two of them.

"Okay, so why did you make me jump over a couch to talk to you, then?"

"Uh...George, fancy taking this one?" Fred awkwardly asks his brother. This is getting really weird, really fast.

"Why not." George shrugs, "So you know that fifth year? That one with the blonde-,"

"Mia." I interrupt through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, her." George continues.

"Are you guys just trying to get me into gossiping? Because I thought I made it clear last time that I don't like talking about people."

"Oh but it's _good_."

I sigh, "Fine."

"Okay, so Misty or whatever her name is was walking around the lake a couple days ago..." George stops when he realizes I'm fighting laughter. "What?"

"Her name's Mia. I like the name Misty, don't ruin it."

"Yes, sir." George salutes me before continuing. "So she fell in and then the squid latched onto her hair and started pulling her along the lake." George elbows Fred in the ribs to keep the laughter quiet. "Mia's screaming her head off, and then the squid just lets go...right in the middle of the lake."

At this point, I have to clarify something, "Does she know how to swim?"

"Pft," Fred waves the idea away and then side notes, "but she does know how to rock a bikini."

"FRED!" I whisper/shout at him. I slap his shoulder, and he yelps.

"Ow. And sorry...but it's true."

I shake my head, disappointed in my friend, "Continue."

"Oh, right, sorry." George starts again, "Mia starts flailing her arms and screaming and stuff, but nobody can hear her. And then this _huge_ thing's back shoots her out of the water and onto the ground. Then she started crying about her bum hurting or something."

"So this crazy important thing was that Mia hurt her butt? Really?"

"You know, it sounds pretty lame when you put that way."

"No," I say sarcastically.

"Whatever, go back to your love fest with Wood." George says. Fred starts laughing, and I leave before George joins in and make us all look like idiots.

* * *

_Sorry that took so long...I've been having a life away from the computer...so yeah...uh... ;p_


	21. Marcus is an Idiot

**Chandler POV**

That detention Snape gave me for spacing out was one of the worst things that has ever happened to me. However, it did result in an extra "Quidditch practice" with Oliver. Because I _really_ need it. Note the sarcasm there.

"Chandler, you know you actually have to work today, right?" Oliver asks after I've almost fallen asleep on the grass in the pitch.

"Why?" I grumble. Tomorrow, we all leave for the holidays, and I really don't want to concentrate on anything today.

"Because, you got detention and you missed a practice."

"I'm tired."

"Chandler, come on. Get up."

"Make me."

"Okay," Oliver shrugs and picks me up bridal style.

"Oliver, I swear if you drop me I will kill you."

"I don't know," Oliver's grip on me loosens a bit and I wrap my arms around his neck in panic.

"I'm awake! I'm awake! Put me down, Oliver."

"Fine." Oliver sets me down gently and I glare at him.

"I hate you so much."

"No you don't." Oliver says, smirking.

I kiss him lightly on the cheek, "Sometimes I wonder what I see in you." I joke.

"Well," Oliver answers, "I'm the best Keeper you'll ever meet, I have an addicting accent - or so I've been told - and I'm gorgeous."

"A little bit," I laugh and give peck his lips.

"Now that you have attempted to distract me from the topic of Quidditch...in the air!" He commands. I laugh as I mount my broom and take to the air. Oliver quickly follows and flies up next to me.

"Now what?" I ask, trying to avoid looking at the ground. Ironic, I know, a Quidditch player who's afraid of heights.

Oliver shrugs, probably trying to think of the most painful form of flying he can make me do. "Fly around the pitch thirty times and then fly as high as you can."

"Not cool, Oliver. Not cool."

He smiles at me, "I'm just doing what I have to do."

I start flying around and I think I get to thirty laps eventually, so I fly back to the center.

"That was only twenty-nine."

"Oliver," I groan, "can I please be done?"

"You wish, Chandler."

"I do wish. Please. I just wanna go back to my dorm and go to sleep."

"And waste your last day of the term? I don't think so."

"Can I at least not practice Quidditch all day? I'll do anything."

"Anything?" Oliver asks curiously.

"Anything within moderation. Don't get any crazy ideas."

"Fine, no more Quidditch. But you have to spend the rest of the day with me."

"I was planning on that anyway, Oliver." I start to descend, but Oliver darts past me and lands first. He wraps an arm around me once we've started walking back to the castle, and I lean my head into his shoulder.

When we get inside, where it isn't much warmer, I see a group of people walking around the halls, being led by my second least favorite person on the planet: Marcus.

"Hey, Chandler!" He calls once he sees me.

I sigh, "What, Marcus?" I call back.

He tells something to his followers, and they walk in the opposite direction. He comes over to us.

"What are you doing running about the castle today?"

"I had to make up for a Quidditch practice. You?"

"That is none of your business," Marcus says quickly.

"Okay...so can we help you with something?"

"Actually, I need to talk to your _friend_ here."

Well, then. That's never good. "Whatever. I'll see you later, Oliver." I quickly kiss him and walk around the corner, where I stand and wait for their conversation to start. Is there something wrong with listening to my half-brother and my boyfriend having a conversation? Probably. Do I care? Absolutely not.

"What do you want, Flint?" Oliver asks irritatedly. Well that was fast.

"I don't like you."

"I don't like you, either. Anything I don't know about?"

"I don't like you and Chandler being together." Marcus says. Okay, I saw that coming, but still. He's technically related to me. Can't he be nice and supportive once?

"And that matters because...?"

"Because I don't want you around her."

"Why not?" Oliver asks, faking interest.

I can almost hear Marcus shrug, "I don't like you. Chandler's my sister."

"_Half-_sister," Oliver corrects. I love it when he does that.

"Whatever. Chandler's my sister, and I don't like you. Therefore, I don't like the two of you being together."

"So I'm supposed to...what?"

"I don't know, just don't be around her anymore."

I'm about to kick a wall, because Marcus is _not_ in charge of my love life. Marcus doesn't know anything about me or Oliver, and he's just assuming that there's going to be a huge problem. Well, then.

"What do you want me to do, switch houses?" Oliver asks. God, his voice is hot when he's mad.

"That would be nice, but seeing as that's not possible, just stay away from her."

"We're in the same house, we're both on the Quidditch team, this argument is completely pointless."

"Screw you, Wood."

"Same to you." Oliver says before walking around the corner, where I am trying as hard as I possibly can not to scream profanities at my brother, even though he's probably out of hearing range by now. "You heard all of that?" He asks after taking my hand.

"Yep," I nod, "and I'm going to make him regret that tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after. And the day-,"

"I get it, Chandler."

"Right, sorry."

"Don't be. It's cute when you ramble on like that."

I can feel heat rising to my cheeks, and I smile, "Thanks."

"So what do you want to do today?"

"I have no idea. You?"

Oliver shrugs and pulls me a bit closer to him, "I don't know. Don't really care either."

"Am I the only person who wonders why my brother's such an idiot?"

"Nope," Oliver answers. I laugh quietly. "What?" He asks curiously.

"Nothing," I tell him. It's kind of funny how much my boyfriend and my brother hate each other.

"Tell me," Oliver pleads.

"I just think it's weird how my boyfriend and my brother hate each others guts."

"Marcus is easy to hate." Oliver explains.

I nod, "I know. I hate him, too. And he's probably just jealous that you're so much more awesome than him."

"Makes sense." Oliver says arrogantly.

"Sometimes I think you're an idiot, too."

"Sometimes I am an idiot."

"Very true." I say, and Oliver and I continue chattering about nothing all the way back to the common room.

* * *

_Sorry it was short and crappy! I just felt like I needed to update...'twill be a much more interesting chapter next time! _

_and don't think I forgot this...REVIEW!  
_


	22. AN

Hey, readers! Sorry I haven't updated in a while! I've run into a bit of a writing dilemma...I have absolutely no idea what should happen next in the story.

So...I want you wonderful readers out there to help me! PM me any ideas you have about what should happen next in the story, and I'll use as many as ideas as I can between now and the end. Thank you!

-klickmaster92


	23. Train Rides Never End Well

**Chandler POV**

Stupid train rides. They take forever, and they're brutally boring. Especially since I have to spend the _entire freaking time_ with Marcus. Well, more like sitting in between Marcus and Oliver, and it's not going well. Marcus keeps getting ticked at really stupid things, and I feel like he's only doing that to make Oliver explode. In Layman's terms: I'm screwed.

I sigh loudly as Marcus starts complaining about the fog outside. Seriously? He can't think of anything better?

"Marcus," I try to keep my voice sounding calm. I'm getting pissed, so Oliver must be in his own private hell. "Can you please shut up?"

He looks at me, shock written all over his face, "And why would I want to do that, Chandler?"

"Because you're annoying everyone," Oliver mutters through gritted teeth. Is it weird that I think he's adorable when he's mad? 'Cause I do.

"What was that, Wood?" Marcus asks, almost like he's begging for a punch in the face.

"Nothing." Oliver says, clearly fighting hard not to scream or do something he'll regret later.

"No, I heard something. I'm just not totally sure what it was."

"It was nothing."

"I think it was something. I want to know what you said."

"Oh my God! Will you two just shut up?" I practically yell. They both shut up immediately. "Thank you." I sigh again. Marcus looks like he wants to say something else, reconsiders, and starts paying attention to the landscape outside again. Thank God. "I'm gonna go find Arianna."

"I'll come, too." Oliver stands up after me.

"Me too." Marcus starts to stand.

"No." I say quickly. Just as I step out of the train compartment and into the small hallway, Mia shows up right next to me and Oliver.

"Watcha doin'?" She asks, I don't even have to look to know she's not talking to me.

"Ignoring you," I mutter.

"What was that?" Mia asks.

"Nothing," I force a smile, hoping she knows how fake it is. Almost like hers.

"Okay." She giggles, turning her attention to Oliver. "Oliver, can you help me find my wand? I can't remember where I put it."

"I'm sure you'll find it eventually." Oliver says calmly. God, that guy is impressive.

"But, you see, I'm not sure which suitcase I put it in."

He sighs, "How many did you bring?"

"I don't know. I didn't feel like counting after I got past seven, you know?"

"Why don't you get your sixth year friend to help you?" I ask her, hoping this interaction will be over with soon.

"Who?" She gives me a blank gaze and I roll my eyes.

"The blond one."

"Which blond one?" She continues to be confused.

"Never mind." I start walking again, grateful that I'm in a pair of legit jeans instead of Hogwarts robes.

"I hope I don't see you later." She calls after me.

"Same to you." I respond before ducking into the compartment fireworks seem to be springing out of. Typical Fred and George. "What's up, guys?"

"Not much," the twins say simultaneously, not looking up from a Chocolate Frog they're stuffing with Muggle jelly beans. I plop down in the seat across from them and watch curiously.

"Can I ask how _that_ is supposed to be important?" I ask, pointing to the Chocolate Frog that was squirming underneath the makeshift restraints Fred and George had made.

"We're gonna give it to Percy. Chocolate and Muggle candy mixed together." George says before Fred sighs.

"There's nothing grosser." He says dreamily.

"Yeah, okay. I'm gonna go find Arianna. Get us before you feed that thing to Percy. I wanna see that."

"Will do." They say simultaneously, and then I walk out of the compartment. Mia's still batting her fake eyelashes and twirling her extensions around her fingers at Oliver.

"But I really need to find it, and I can't remember where I put it." She takes a step closer to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"You know I can see you, right?" I ask. She looks at me, mutters a few choice words and walks in the opposite direction quickly. "Can I ask why you were still talking to her?"

"'Cause I couldn't walk away without her following me." He says simply.

"You could tell her not to."

"Yeah, I'll take that into consideration next time you walk away from me while she's talking to me."

"So now you're blaming me?" I'm getting a bit mad now.

"You _did_ leave me here alone with her." He's getting mad, too. Wonderful.

"Why does it matter if I left you alone with her? Do you want me to be the clingiest girl in the world? 'Cause I can do that if you want me to." My voice is getting louder.

"Can I ask what's going on with you?" His voice level matches mine, if it's not louder.

"What is _that _supposed to mean?" I shout.

"It means exactly what it sounds like. There's something going on with you, and I just want to know what it is. Sue me!" He's shouting now, too.

"Maybe I will, you idiot!"

"Oh, now I'm an idiot? Really?"

At this point I'm fairly certain that Fred, George, Arianna, and Marcus are all in the hall, along with a few people I don't know. They could listen to every single word we say, I don't give a crap.

"Yeah! And you've always been an idiot!"

"Explain that, please."

"All you've ever given a crap about is Quidditch!"

"Because Quidditch never yells at me!"

"That is _so_ hypocritical!"

"You're the one who started yelling!"

"And you're yelling louder than me!"

"Actually," Fred cuts in, at a completely normal voice level, "I think you're louder, Chandler."

"Shut up!" I scream at him. God, I'm mad. I try to bring my voice back down, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go murder Mia." And with that, I storm off like a two year old who didn't get their ice cream. 'Cause I'm just that immature.

* * *

_So, I know I haven't updated in a while, 'cause my life got really messed up. But I had the whole day today, and I felt like updating something I hadn't worked on in a while, so here it is! I hope y'all liked it, 'cause I spent about six hours on it. And you better review. I'm expecting reviews. So hurry up and write something in that fancy box. Pretty soon I should have another chapter up soon, and I mean it this time. Sorry it's so short. The next one will be longer, but I wanna watch Psych, and I need the computer for that, so...I hope you'll see more about Oliver and Chandler in a few days!  
_


	24. Besties Fix Everything

**Arianna POV**

Well, _that _was terrifying. Oliver and Chandler never fight. _Ever. _And now she's in a fuming rage, going off to who-knows-where to attack somebody who kind of deserves a punch in that pretty face of hers. I didn't say that! I just...well, I don't like Mia. At all. Never have, never will. When me and Chandler came here, she was glaring at both of us the entire time. And then when Chandler got on the Quidditch team, Mia and I had a very interesting conversation involving many insults from both of us. I never told Chandler about that, because she had enough to worry about then.

"Do you know who I am, Arianna?" Mia had asked me after Chandler had gone over to the Quidditch team's table.

"I'm busy, thank you very much." I had told her, hoping she'd go away. I would always remember her face, no matter how many times she changed her nose, of her hair, I would never forget that glare she gave my best friend.

"Well, you're not busy anymore. Let's go, I wanna talk to you."

"The feeling is not mutual."

"Well, that's just too bad, isn't it? Let's go." She pulled me up off the couch, through the common room, and up the stairs into the fifth year dormitories.

"Okay, what do you want, Mia?"

"Ah, so you do know who I am."

"Yes, and I need to study, so can you get a move on, please?"

"You need to get your friend to back off."

"To back off of what?"

"Oliver."

I burst out laughing at that. "Really?"

"What's so strange about that?"

"You want me-to tell Chandler-to stay away from Oliver?" I asked in between laughs. "Oliver Wood?"

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because even if they do fancy each, other, you know Chandler's a Flint, right? Her parents would never go for that."

"Oh. Okay, but still. If you don't tell her to back off my man, I'll-"

"You're man? You know he's practically married to Quidditch?"

"Well, he will be mine."

"You're an idiot."

"Well why did she suddenly want to play Quidditch if she's not after Oliver?"

"Uh, she doesn't like heights. Professor McGonagall made her join because she isn't getting up early enough."

"She did?"

I sighed, "Yeah. Can I go now?"

"Not quite. What's this Chandler person's weakness?"

"Why would I tell you that?" What the crud kind of a question was that?

"Well, you're a nice person, and if Chandler and Oliver get together, then she'll be spending all of her time with him instead of you."

"I really don't care."

"Come on," she said persuasively, "just tell me how to get into her head."

"No."

A random fifth year girl walks in then, "Mia, can I borrow a-oh, sorry."

"Get out, Melissa."

"What's going on in here?" Melissa asked curiously. Thank God for confused people. While Mia was cursing out this Melissa person, and this Melissa person was trying to get Mia to shut up, I slipped out their dorm and down the stairs back to the common room to continue studying.

"Do you know what we're supposed to do now?" I ask Fred, after snapping myself out of the memory.

"I'm not sure, but I think it's in everyone's best interest if we follow Chandler."

"You guys go ahead, I think I'm gonna stay here."

"Suit yourself." Fred, George, and Marcus all go in the direction Chandler went, while I walk over to Oliver.

"I should slap you right now." I tell him.

"Go ahead."

So I slap him.

"Ow!" He says.

"You said I could."

"Now can I ask you why?"

"Because my best friend's mad at you."

"And that's a good reason because...?"

"Because she's too angry to do it for herself, and you deserve it."

"Not gonna question that one. Do you know what I'm supposed to do now?"

"I don't know. I've never seen her like this before, and it's kind of freaking me out. What did you do?"

"Uh, Mia was flirting with me."

Yeah, Oliver's an idiot. "Why would you do something so stupid?"

"Girls are so freaking confusing."

"Guys have no room to talk there."

"Fair enough."

"I should probably go that way," I point in the direction everyone else went. "And you probably shouldn't. I really don't know. Do whatever you feel like doing."

"I think I'll stay here."

"'Kay. I'll see you later, then." I walk off toward the rest of the group, who is huddled around something. Uh-oh.

"Chandler, are you alright?" I hear Harry Potter asking. Well isn't this just great? We've got one of the most famous wizards in the world involved now.

"What did I miss?" I ask Fred and George after I get to the group. Chandler's curled up in a ball, leaning against a wall, holding back tears.

"Not much. Chandler found Mia, Mia was being...well, she was being herself, and then Chandler slapped her and then Mia slapped her and then Mia walked away, probably to find some teacher or something. And then Chandler kinda broke down." George explains.

"And why are you all standing here watching her?" I ask them. They should at least know not to just stand around like potatoes. Sheesh, boys are dumb these days.

"Well what else are we supposed to do?" Fred asks.

I sigh before pushing past them and sitting next to Chandler. "Do you wanna talk about it?" I ask her, keeping my voice calm. Fred and George make 'Oh!' expressions, and I roll my eyes at them.

She shakes her head, "Not really."

"Okay. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

"Do Fred and George still have their Chocolate Frog?" She looks up at them while wiping away a few tears that have escaped. Why would a Chocolate Frog make her happy? I could've sworn she told me she hated those.

"George pulls it out of his zipped pocket, "Percy! Percy I've got an early Christmas present for you!" He calls. A few moments later Percy walks out of a cabin a few down and looks at us all.

"What's going on here?" He asks in his prefect manner. "Were you two throwing food around again?"

"No, no." Fred says in a low voice. "Chandler and Oliver had a fight."

"What? They never fight."

"It happened, and I can hear you." Chandler sniffles.

"Sorry," they all say simultaneously. Creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepy. Then again, they are the Weasleys. One would think I'd be used to this by now.

"So what's this early Christmas present I heard about and why should I trust it to not be a plot to humiliate me.

"It's a chocolate Frog that George and I have bought for you as a sort of apology, because we've done a lot of mean things to you, and you've only been trying to help us." Fred says. I honestly can't tell if he's lying or not, but I can almost guarantee that he is.

"Really? Well, if you've come to your senses about that, then you deserve this." He pushes the squirming Chocolate Frog back toward the twins.

"But we only bought one, and we split the price, you know, the money came out of what we're saving up to build a joke shop."

"You two have suddenly grown up. It's strange, but I'm proud." Wow. Percy's an idiot. He can't even see how amazingly, terribly, easily-oh I can't pick the right word. He can't even see how his brothers are toying with him. That's entertaining in a strange way. "Okay, thank you for the Chocolate Frog." I'm still completely lost on what's so special about this specific Chocolate Frog. Percy takes a bite out of the frog before gagging and spitting saliva covered chocolate onto his prefect badge. Chandler, Fred and George start laughing immediately, though Chandler's is a bit quieter and slightly heartbreaking. After Percy starts cursing and running around frantically trying to get the spitty wad off his badge, I join in the laughter, too. Then I remember Oliver's probably on the verge of tears right now, and I stop laughing.

"I'm gonna go check on Oliver," I tell Fred and George, who can barely nod through their laughter. Okay then.

"I wanna come." Chandler wipes the remaining tears that escaped from her face before working her way into a standing position.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, wait, do I look like I've been crying?"

"Yeah."

Suddenly, Penelope Clearwater is right next to us. Weird... "Hold on just a minute." She says something in some language that sounds foreign to me, though I recognize it as a spell people usually use to clear up their skin. I've never used it, because I never feel like my appearance is important enough to be a distraction. Chandler's face brightens up for a moment, and her skin looks about ten times better than it did two minutes ago. And that's saying something, because Chandler's _really_ pretty.

"Um, thanks Penelope." She says.

"Anytime."

"Can we go now, before I change my mind?"

"Yeah." I start walking back towards the war zone. Chandler comes up beside me.

"Is he okay?"

"I don't know. If anything, I should be asking you that. You know him better than me."

"Good point." Fairly soon we reach Chandler, Oliver, and Marcus' cabin. I highly doubt that Oliver is voluntarily in the same place as Marcus, especially in his current state of mind. Honestly, I'm not even sure if it's safe to have Chandler here. I suppose I'll find out soon enough. "Are we just gonna stand here staring at the door?" Chandler asks after a few seconds of me standing still.

"No, you can go first." I take a step back, preparing myself for another round of shouting if necessary. Chandler slides the door open and looks in. I can hear Marcus saying something irritatedly before noticing Chandler and stopping mid-sentence.

"Marcus. Out. Now." She says, some of her anger beginning to seep into her words. Here we go again. Marcus comes out into the corridor and looks at me, confused. "Arianna, get your scared British butt in here."

"I'm coming, I'm coming." She didn't have to tell me twice with her brother around. I take a seat in the small, cramped space, and Chandler slides the door shut again, taking a moment to glare at Marcus. I watch both Oliver and Chandler, trying to figure out who's going to speak first. They both look like they have a lot to say, some of it not being very good, and some of it being that cute yet sickening stuff they do most of the time. I'm getting sick of this awkward silence, so I decide I'm going to start the conversation. "So..." And then of course I have absolutely nothing to say. God, I wish one of them would stop being so freaking full of pride and apologize already.

Then again, when have either of them _not_ been full of pride?

"Okay," I start, this time having a rough idea of what I want to say. "You two are both being idiots, and it's bothering me. One of you apologize, right now." Don't say I sound like I should be somebody's mom, I'll have plenty of time for that later thank you very much.

"I did nothing wrong." Chandler says defiantly. That mental breakdown seemed to do her a lot of good.

"I didn't do anything wrong either." Oliver says. I sigh. Neither of them are acting at all like they were five minutes ago. My God, they seem like Muggles.

"You're both doing something wrong right now." I tell them, hoping they aren't about to unleash a ton of anger at me.

"And what would that be?" Chandler asks, giving me a look that says, 'Get out before I dig your throat out with my wand.'

"You two are like Muggles. Seriously. Chandler, you shouldn't have left Oliver there with Mia, and Oliver, you shouldn't have gotten mad about it. And both of you should stop being idiots and kiss and make up already. But don't actually kiss 'cause I don't want to see that."

"I'm not doing anything until he apologizes for being an-"

"I don't want to hear it, Chandler." I say, using the voice I use on my little sisters when they're annoying me. "You just volunteered yourself to apologize first."

This whole time Oliver's just been watching. I don't know if he's ever heard me talk before today, so this might be weird for him to hear me with such an attitude.

"Fine," she gives in after weighing her options. "Sorry, Oliver."

"Your turn." I look at Oliver.

"I'm sorry, Chandler. And by the way, your friends are all very strange."

"And she's not?" I ask, before realizing I should probably leave now...yeah, that might be smart. "Okay, I'm gonna leave now. Tah-tah. Don't have too much fun."

"Don't be disgusting." Chandler retorts before I exit the cabin. I hope I don't ever have to fix their relationship again. That was a lot of work. Somebody comes (completely out of nowhere), and we ram into each other.

"Sorry!" He says, sitting up on the train's floor. I sit up too. The guy has dark brown hair and light brown eyes.

"No, it's my fault, I wasn't watching where I was going."

"Okay then, you're Chandler Flint's friend, right?"

"Yeah, Arianna Gryffindor."

"I'm Will Evans. It's nice to meet you, Arianna."

"Same for you." We both suddenly seem to realize that we're still sitting in the middle of the corridor and stand up.

"What year are you in?"

"Second, but I got held back in Muggle school, and apparently I need a correct amount of maths knowledge before I can get an owl to come to my house. I should be a third year."

"I'm a third year. It's not all that different than second. Except, you know, that we can go to Hogsmeade. It's not all that special there, though, you get used to it after a few trips. Sorry, I ramble sometimes."

"That's okay. Oh, crap. I told my little sister I'd buy her those beans with the long name that I refuse to say."

"Bertie Bott's?"

"Yeah, those. Where did she get off to? I've got to go find her. I'll see you around."

"See you." I say as he walks away. You know, he's kind of cute...Nope! My grades are too important to be thinking about boys. And besides, do I want to have incidents like Chandler and Oliver had today? I don't think so. I walk back to the train cabin I'm sharing with a few first years I don't really know and try to sleep for the rest of the ride.

* * *

_I know it's kinda crappy, and Arianna's point of view is a bit strange for me to be writing in, but I tried. Review, review, review, review. I say review. And I say it now. Really, that little box underneath this doesn't get used enough. So use it! Let it's hibernation end. Thank you!_


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